


Face the Mirror, Darkly

by premiemtemflake



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: BAMF Link (Legend of Zelda), Blood and Gore, Child Death, Dark, Environmentalism, Gaslighting, Ghirahim is an asshole, Ghiralink by proxy, Link & Zelda supporting each other, Link (Legend of Zelda) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Link hates Ghirahim, Mind Control, Multi, Obsession, Poor Link (Legend of Zelda), Post-Skyward Sword, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Aftermath, Stalking, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Violence, but Impa is alive, onesided!Ghiralink, slight Ghirahim/OC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:07:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 80,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24278602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/premiemtemflake/pseuds/premiemtemflake
Summary: "They described it to me most clearly. You will take up the Master Sword. You will come to our village. You will shroud yourself in darkness and then burn our village to the ground!"A Sheikan Prophecy foretells a dark future for Link. Meanwhile Ghirahim haunts his past and present with relentless persistence.
Relationships: Ghirahim & Link (Legend of Zelda), Ghirahim/Link (Legend of Zelda), Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 88
Kudos: 136





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Bleh. I haven't wrote a LOZ fic in so long, and generally I write something like this at my most depressed moments and then delete it. Its only the coronavirus that motivated me to keep this story after repeated rewrites.
> 
> Please read the tags in case of any trigger warnings. I tried to add as many tags as a warning for what will show up in the future, but I may add more. I don't intend to describe rape in the first few chapters, but it'll sneak its way in eventually. 
> 
> Oh, and just as another warning, if you're looking for the 'Link-eventually-falls-in-love-with-Ghirahim' fic, turn back now. As much as I love Ghirahim as a character, I'm writing him at his absolute worst here.

“Good-bye sky child. Run and play this time. Get in my way again, though, and you’re dead.”

Link stood there, completely exhausted, and watched as Ghirahim teleported and disappeared in a flash of diamonds. His sword gripped so tightly in his hand that he felt his fingers might break. _Don’t ever let go of your sword again. Never again. Never ever, ever again. He might still be here. He might change his mind. He might come back and…_

He gripped the bleeding wound in his shoulder where the demon lord’s dagger struck him. What was left of his shield was discarded, broken into pieces of wood and metal strewn across the room. He was in too much shock to even care. He had to have stood there for close to a minute, shaking. _This can’t be real. That didn’t just happen._

“I apologize, Master,” Fi spoke up. Her tone didn’t change but Link felt that something was different in her voice. It made him feel sick. “I was 75% confident that we could win this fight with my initial analysis. I will go over the data again and see how we can improve to prevent a situation like this from occurring again.”

Link felt bile rise up to his throat, but he managed to swallow it back down. He didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to acknowledge that the ‘situation’ as Fi had described it had even happened.

“We are approximately 17 feet from the sacred shrine,” Fi stated. “The waters are known to be healing. I suggest we move there for the sake of your injuries.”

His sword hand shook more violently, rustling his injured shoulder and sending pain throughout his body. He took a step forward and suddenly felt _everything_. His bruised ribs, the vicious bite mark on his neck, the open wound from Ghirahim’s sword at his inner thigh, the unfamiliar burning sensation in his…

Link let out a shuddering gasp of pain. Fi silently followed beside him as he continued to move. _17 feet._ 17 feet to the healing waters and all of it would go away. Stained bloody from the openly bleeding gash on his thigh, his pants were ripped apart in the front and started to slide down his waist. His face went hot with humiliation as he quickly reached to keep them up.

_17 feet_ , he kept telling himself. 17 feet full of pain and then this would all be fixed. He kept walking towards the glowing door. It didn’t have a handle, but he trusted that Fi had a plan. He got to the doorway, one hand gripping his pants, the other gripping the Master Sword. The door started to fade into an open hallway, and he let out a tiny shaky breath of relief as he kept moving forwards.

He hobbled down some stairs until he saw the trees, the open sky, and birds chirping. He looked over at the water to the left of him before Fi interrupted.

“The insignia at the shrine,” Fi said as she blocked Link from all but crashing into the water. “You must use a skyward strike to activate it and then the healing effect will work.”

Link let out a shaky sigh as he moved forwards, gritting in pain as he walked further up the stairs, past the four columns. He got himself ready and hopped across the marble stones up to the small sculpture of the goddess, bearing through the agonizing pain with each step. Birds of all colors flew up as he got closer.

If he was in a different state of mind, he would’ve appreciated the scenery so much more. He would’ve been so grateful to see the open sky again after so long in the darkness of Skyview temple. But everything still felt wrong and sick and tainted. Link grimaced, staring forwards, feeling like the world was suddenly mocking him. How could a place so peaceful exist while his worst nightmare had just happened 17 feet away?

He lifted his sword and channeled the energy, his sword vibrated, signaling the power he called on once more. He let out a pathetic attempt for a slash, and was grateful when he managed to send the charged energy burst towards the insignia. He desperately tried to favor his shoulder through the motion. The phoenix lit up in light blue and spun. Link watched as the glowing effect spread across the water and then faded. He looked to Fi in desperation and she nodded silently.

Link took his cue to stumble towards the water. He barely managed to stay on his feet before he stepped into the water and fell onto his knees. He could feel the healing water work its magic already, but the process felt slow, and if he was going to rest, he needed his back against a hard surface. He couldn’t let Ghirahim get behind him again, _never again_.

He crawled over to a nearby tree and sat, back pressed firmly against wood. He scooped handfuls of the water and poured them over his bleeding shoulder, then the bite mark on his neck, and finally pressed a handful to his face. The water drained through his fingers, but he kept them there, pressing his hands against his forehead, trying to will the numb, foggy feeling away from his mind. He still felt sick. He still felt…

“These are supposed to be healing,” Link croaked, his voice cracked, worn from overuse. He rarely talked much, but he was certain that he had screamed at some point within the past hour. He couldn’t quite remember why he screamed. He didn’t want to remember why.

“But I can still feel him,” Link whispered, shuddering.

He could still feel the marks from those pale white hands, gripping his wrists, tightening around his neck, feeling up his chest underneath his tunic, ripping his pants, touching the most intimate places that no one had ever touched before. He let out a sob. Would he really have to live feeling like this for the rest of his life?

“I can’t do this,” he wailed out in desperation. “ ** _I can’t. I can’t. I can’t do this. Oh goddesses, I can’t._** ”


	2. One Year Later

Link stared at the worn mirror with hardened eyes. He checked each corner of the reflection with care, examining the freshly made wooden room surrounding him. He looked down at the metal sink and reached for the pitcher full of water.

He poured a handful into his hand pressing the water into his face, both to wake himself up a bit more and calm his nerves. He let out a sigh, brushing away his blonde hair and wiping away the excess water on his face with his sleeve before looking back at the mirror.

He saw just a flash of white in the reflection near the metal basin that was being used as a bathtub, and it was enough to send his adrenaline racing. His sword was drawn in seconds as he whirled around, back pressed against the wall, looking around the room for any signs of movement.

He waited another minute, hands gripping a standard sword given out from Skyloft’s training center, and wished that Fi was here. He would’ve asked her. “Do you sense anything? What’s out there? _Is it him?_ ” He had asked her that question more times than he could possibly count throughout their journey together, and she had been _so patient_ with him for it. But she had finished her duty and now she was gone, and he was left alone to figure it out for himself whether the most dangerous monster left on the surface was still out there.

He heard a knock at the door.

“Link!” Zelda called out. “Are you alright in there? Croo said he needed to use the toilet. I don’t think yesterday’s meal settled with him right.”

Link sheathed his sword back in his scabbard and unlocked the door. “I’m fine, Zelda.”

He opened the door and entered the empty room of the freshly made house made out of wood. The air was still stuffy with sawdust. Zelda stood there in her pink dress and brown boots, both slightly stained with mud and grime. He’d like to say she looked the same as she did before the tornado swept her away, but her face looked older, her demeanor more serious, and far less innocent than she did a year ago.

“Are you sure?” she asked, unconvinced, eyes filled with worry.

Link tried to give a reassuring smile. “How many times are you going to ask me that question?”

Zelda shrugged. “It can’t hurt to ask. We both have been through a lot.”

Link nodded before turning the question on her. “Are you okay?”

Zelda nodded. “Yes, but I’m a little nervous for today. I don’t think Howell or Eagus will like the agreement we made with the Kikwi. I don’t even think my father wants to work with them like this.”

Link gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m glad you’re standing with them.”

Zelda nodded as she walked towards the door. “And don’t forget! You will too! I need someone in my corner at least to scare everyone into this deal if all else fails.” She turned back to him. “I don’t know how you did it, but that look you gave Gondo the other day scared him enough to finish making the water pipes. Just remember to go easy on him once in a while!”

Link didn’t respond as he followed her out into the overcast day, out of the freshly built house, bordering the edge of Faron woods. They both walked by multiple large tents, strung up by ragged cloth and mud. Several Skyloftians that Link recognized stood outside, watching as groups of children ran across the path. Link followed Zelda to another wooden house less than a minute away. The side scaffolding was still being built up by several workers.

Eagus, Owlan, Howell, and Gaebora all stood in a circle, while Peater and Parrow hammered into the wood nearby. Zelda walked up to them, with Link right behind her.

“Hello everyone,” Zelda greeted. “Father,” she nodded to Gaebora.

“I spoke to the Kikwi,” she began. “They agreed to help us so long as we only cut down the trees that they choose. I know you all wanted us to start logging and building homes for everyone as soon as we could, but we need to take this slow in order to respect the wishes of our new neighbors.”

Owlan was the only one in the group to give a happy nod and smile. Link knew Owlan had a passion for plants, and immediately supported any attempts to favor the Kikwi’s wellbeing. The others remained skeptical, frowning at Zelda’s decision.

“The tents won’t stand for much longer, Zelda,” Eagus argued. “Another rainstorm like the last one and we’ll have half our residents without shelter. We need to gather enough materials to build new homes as soon as possible or else all of this will be for nothing.”

Zelda pressed her lips in a firm line. “Then we take down the old houses from Skyloft. We all still have our loftwings at the ready. There should be enough birds to carry materials down. We’ll reuse everything.”

Howell shook his head. “We agreed to take down the training center, but no one else will offer the materials for new houses. They all want a failsafe to return to in case something happens down here in the meantime. We’ll need a lot more materials to accommodate everyone. I’m sorry Zelda, but the Kikwi must agree to lend us more.”

“We’ll destroy their homes!” Zelda argued. “We agreed that so long as we settled here, we would respect their wishes. We cannot do this to them after they agreed to help us!”

“Zelda,” Gaebora said, raising his hands. “We need to hold them to this bargain. Our knights have driven out the beasts from their lands. We have provided them with protection. They must respect our need to protect our own people. They have not provided assistance in any way since then.”

“They offered any guidance and protection they could provide,” Zelda pointed. “We don’t know the lands like they do. I promise you that backstabbing them like this will only hurt us in the long run.”

“Protection?” Eagus huffed. “Protection from what?”

“From me,” Link interjected with a glare, and all four men took a step back in response.

“Link,” Gaepora said, shocked. “You can’t be serious. We’ve raised you like our own so-”

“I’ve shed far more blood for the Kikwi than you can possibly imagine,” Link stated, interrupting Gaepora’s statement. “I won’t stand idly by while their only refuge is destroyed, no matter who it is.”

Zelda turned to him, biting her lip, looking more conflicted than anything else. Link stood resolute. Without homes, he knew, the Kikwi would have nowhere to turn for a safe haven.

“Without the Kikwi, I wouldn’t be here,” Zelda said after a moment of tense silence. “Link and I would have never achieved what we did without them. _We all_ wouldn’t be standing here without them. We owe them this.”

The four men kept silent, more shaken by Link’s threat than anything else. Gaebora finally nodded.

“For now, Zelda,” Gaepora finally agreed. “Once we run out of supplies, we need to discuss this further with them.”

Zelda nodded. “Thank you.”

Eagus had gritted his teeth. Howell looked conflicted. Gaepora looked resigned. They all turned back to the village full of tents, only occasionally glancing at Link with nervous looks. Link ignored them.

The day passed as the Skyloftians kept working, steadily chopping and sawing through the available wood, hammering down planks for new houses. Link joined Fledge, Dovos, and Keet set up the framework for the newest house. Even when the three of them needed a break, Link kept going, finding the work somewhat therapeutic.

There was a strong sense of community as the Skyloftians worked together to set up their homes. Zelda helped Luv and Kina with picking out old wood that couldn’t be used for houses and set up the flint for a large campfire to last the night.

The sun started to set when Link was finished chopping up wood, his body sweaty from work. He pulled off his hat and wiped his brow.

“I see you earned the title of chosen hero in spades. I can’t believe you’re still going!”

Link turned to see that Dovos was resting on a stump, catching his breath and looking at Link in awe. Keet and Fledge were nearby, standing but also breathing heavily. Fledge was the only one left with his shirt on and sweat had run through the armpits of his light blue shirt.

“This heat,” Keet commented, waving his hand to cool off his face. “I’m so used to the constant barrage of strong winds from Skyloft.”

Link noticed that he was also drenched in sweat. It was true that the surface was much warmer than Skyloft, but he was used to the change in climate. After spending weeks near the hottest parts of the Eldin Volcano, a bit of sweat was _nothing_ to complain about.

Henya walked up to the three of them, carrying a basket. “Hello boys! I’ve gathered a few of the girls to help me do laundry today. I can collect your clothes and have them returned in a few.”

The men happily handed off their clothes, even Fledge, who was a bit nervous to remove his shirt and expose his chest, resigned to do so. Link kept on chopping wood.

“Link,” Henya said, walking up to him. “Why don’t I take that tunic of yours. I’ll have it back soon.” She looked him over. “Why do you still keep your sword at your back? That can’t be comfortable to work with.”

“I’ll wash them later,” Link stated, ignoring the second question as he set up another piece of wood to be chopped. He didn’t like exposing his skin, no matter how hot it was. Even when Fi had suggested removing his tunic to avoid heatstroke, he had remained undeterred.

“Now, now, don’t be stubborn!” Henya said, hands on her waist. “We’ll all save you time and energy that you spent washing your own clothes on building the houses faster. We have plenty of people willing to wash clothes and not enough workers to build our new homes!”

“Later,” Link growled, shooting her a glare.

He used to be afraid of Henya, back when he would run through her kitchen and nearly break her pots. Now, the idea of the woman scaring him into giving up his tunic was laughable at best. Henya didn’t flinch like the others did when Link sent a glare their way, but she didn’t argue with him either. She huffed and left the men to return back to their work.

“That boy has been more trouble than he’s worth, lately,” Henya told Dovos. The older man merely shrugged and Henya walked away with the men’s clothes in tow.

Link kept chopping wood as Fledge walked up to him. “You know, of all people, I didn’t expect you to be self-conscious about how you looked,” he rubbed the back of his head. “But I get it, you know? Sometimes I look at Eagus and think, ‘I’ll finally feel proud of myself when I have as much muscle as him.’ Well… I don’t think that’ll ever happen anytime soon.”

Link paused lowering his axe and staring at the ground. The ridiculous idea that he just wanted to build more muscle to show it off was almost laughable. He couldn’t explain it to any of them. They had no idea. They couldn’t possibly comprehend why he didn’t like to leave himself exposed like that. Not in front of the them… He couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t.

“You look fine, Fledge,” Link reassured him.

“You think so?” Fledge asked nervously, flexing his arms. “I’ve been trying to do more sword training lately.”

He let Fledge talk to him like he was just struggling with the same problem of self-consciousness. He was used to being the silent one, and letting others talk away. Listening was something that he was still good at. Something that usually didn’t involve washing monster blood out of his tunic by the very end.

There was a bit of silence after Fledge finished his thought and Link gave a “hmm” in response. The silence was broken by a loud call throughout the village.

“Who’s up for deer tonight!” Groose shouted out with pride as he entered the village from the woods.

He held up the large dead animal by the antlers with the help of Stritch carrying the hooves, parading it through the village of tents. People cheered him on as he set the animal by the campfire. Zelda walked up to him with a big grin and gave Groose a hug.

“Ah,” Fledge commented. “It’ll be a nice change from the rabbit stew.”

Link set down his axe and watched as the others congratulated Groose on his catch. “Hey, Fledge, if you see anyone else try to chop down the trees around here, can you let me know right away?”

“Oh, er, yeah, sure,” Fledge said with a nod in agreement.

“Thanks,” Link replied. “Go ahead and join the others. I’ll be with everyone shortly.”

“Okay,” Fledge said. “Just be careful. It gets really dark around here quickly. I mean, I’m sure you knew that, but-”

“I know,” Link said to reassure him. “I’ll be fine.”

Link walked over to a clearing into the woods, father away from the village and took a deep breath as he prepared his muscles to train. He took one step, and in a flash, drew his sword, swinging it out in less than a second. He took another breath and drew his sword back in its sheath again, and then letting it out in one big swing as fast as his reflexes could possibly go. He had practiced the move before, but he wanted to get faster, he needed to get better at this.

He went through several moves with his sword, some were learned from training as a knight, most were taught directly from Fi. He swung his sword with quick expertise, going through each motion he used to take down the many various hundreds of monsters. He had to keep this up. He couldn’t get weak, or lazy. He needed to stay sharp.

He spotted just a flash of a diamonds next to a tree and swung his sword instantly towards it, holding back only to make sure he didn’t get his sword lodged in the trunk. Bits of bark flew near his face.

Link quickly turned around, head spinning wildly, looking for another sign. He stepped back against the tree, eyes searching throughout the increasing darkness for something. Anything.

“Face me, you coward,” Link whispered in frustration.

There was nothing worse than knowing that Ghirahim was still out there. He knew he regretted the very moment he watched the sword disappear from Demise’s hands. He knew the monster would live to see another day and Link could do _nothing_ about it. It was only because Link couldn’t leave Demise alive to chase after him, though he desperately wanted to see the demon lord finally take his last breath just as badly as he wanted Demise’s reign to end.

He waited again, breathing heavily, sword at the ready. He didn’t know if he wanted Ghirahim to be there or not. It was better if the demon lord wasn’t actually there. It was safer for everyone if it was just his mind playing tricks on him. But on the other hand… _Just end this. Please. Just show up so I know I’m not losing my mind._

He didn’t know how long he waited, but the sun had fully set, and it had gone completely dark, with only the crickets chirping and the sign of the fire in the distance. Link’s arm was getting stiff from holding up his sword. He didn’t put it back in his scabbard. He couldn’t let down his guard yet, even as he walked back out of the woods towards the tents. It wasn’t until he spotted Piper rush past him to gather supplies that he respectfully sheathed his sword to avoid scaring her.

He entered the open area near the large campfire. The Skyloftians had all gathered amongst the fire, some sitting and concentrating on cooking the deer meat, others playing guitars and dancing. Pumm and Piper were arguing over a pot of pumpkin soup near the fire, while Kina distributed out metal bowls and mugs for people to use.

Link spotted Groose and Zelda, smiling and talking to each other, sitting on the ground on the other side of the campfire. Zelda let out a laugh, and Groose grinned from ear to ear. Link turned away, wondering if there would be a point in time where he could be happy like that again. It all felt so far away from him.

He was glad that Zelda seemed to recover well enough. He had been so terrified when she had been kidnapped by the end, when Ghirahim had finally used her to summon Demise. She wasn’t the only one to pester him with the question ‘Are you okay?’ He had hoped that the demon lord hadn’t done anything else to her, but when asked, she had reassured him that she hadn’t been awake for most of it. It wasn’t as comforting as he’d like, but at the very least, she didn’t suffer like he did.

He waited in the growing line for a deer kebab, before Zelda finally approached him.

“Hey,” she said. “Are you okay?”

Link nodded. “I’m okay.”

“Good,” Zelda said. “If there’s anything I can do to help, Link, just let me know.”

“I’m okay.”

“Okay,” Zelda paused. “Can you try not to threaten my dad next time?”

Link blinked. “You wanted me to scare them.”

“Yeah, just,” Zelda struggled to find the words. “Not like that. I understand now that I wasn’t clear, so in the future, just please don’t do that again.”

Link took a step forwards and grabbed the cooked deer kebab offered to him. “Alright, but we’re the only two people defending the Kikwi right now. If we don’t take this seriously, they won’t have anything left to call their home.”

Zelda sighed as she took her own cooked kebab. “I know. I just don’t want us to be fighting like this. I don’t want my dad to think he suddenly has to fear for his life because of you.”

Link looked up at her. “I would never-”

“I know,” Zelda reassured him. “Of course, I know you wouldn’t, but you just… made it _really_ convincing that you could.”

Link looked back down at his deer kebab.

“I think everyone is still adjusting,” Zelda explained carefully. “To how much you’ve… we’ve changed.”

Link took a bite out of his deer kebab, prepared to taste that strong, gamey flavor that came from deer meat, but it all felt flavorless.

-

-

-

His sword was gone. His sword was _gone._ He was stuck in a prison in the Eldin Volcano, surrounded by monsters with zero weapons and his sword had been swept away by the wind. How? How could he have screwed up so badly and lose every weapon he worked so hard to find. He immediately panicked, pressing his back against the wall. His heart felt like it was about to explode out of his chest. He was completely unable to breathe. It wasn’t just the heat from the volcano this time. He was suffocating. He was going to die. He was going to die here in this cell. He couldn’t possibly survive without his sword.

He slid down and curled into a ball, gripping his legs in a completely horrified state, before he quickly remembered that he experienced this before. This had all happened before, including the feeling like he was dying, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t dying, just panicking. Last time, Plats the Mogma had shown up just to give him back his mogma mitts. It had taken around 20 minutes of patience, reassuring words, and calming chatter from the mogma to get Link back to a state where he could think clearly again.

He waited, trying to calm his breathing down again and stared at the ground, looking for where Plats was going to show. _He was going to show up, right?_

Link heard the creak of the bars in front of his cell open, and there was Ghirahim, dressed in his red cloak, perfectly primped, showing no signs of sweat or dirt from the trip through the Eldin Volcano.

“No,” Link wheezed, shaking his head, gasping for breath. “No, no, no.”

He backed away to the corner of the cell, but nothing could prevent the demon lord from moving closer, filling his vision. Ghirahim smirked, grabbing his wrists in a tight grip.

“I’ve got you now, sky child,” he leered.

Link’s right wrist was released as Ghirahim snapped his fingers and the world went completely black. But Link could still feel the demon lord’s breath on his face, the press of a body against his, the tight grip around his wrist.

Link yanked his left wrist free with all his might and automatically reached for his sword. His fingers hit the comforting metal as he gripped and made the quick swing he had been practicing for months on end.

It was only in the process of swinging his sword he realized that his eyes were closed, and he snapped them open just as he felt his sword tear through soft flesh rather than rebound against the protective barrier that Ghirahim had always covered himself in.

Blood splashed against Link’s face, immediately waking him up to the scene before him. He had been sleeping, sitting against a tree. Fledge, _not Ghirahim_ , had grabbed his wrist to wake him. Link had drawn his sword and sliced through a good section of the boy’s shoulder up to his neck.

Fledge choked as he fell backwards, and Link’s eyes widened in panic.

“Oh goddesses! Fledge!” Link shouted, dropping his sword and immediately placing his hands on the spurting wound.

The wound was long and deep, running out like a spout as Link desperately pressed down trying to find enough pressure to keep the boy from bleeding out.

“HELP!” Link screamed. “SOMEONE HELP!”

Some of the people rushed out of their tents to look before gasping and screaming at the sight.

“Who has red potion?”

“Someone get Zelda!”

Link kept staring at the boy in horror. Fledge was struggling for breath, coughing up blood. “Stay with me Fledge,” he begged the boy. “It’s going to be okay, alright? It’s all going to be okay.” He didn’t know if Fledge was even conscious to hear him. The boy’s eyes stared straight up, not even acknowledging Link, but it felt better to talk to him rather than say nothing.

Luv, the potion’s master’s wife, ran up with rags and red potion, followed by a large group of Skyloftians, all watching in shock as they held up lanterns to illuminate the gruesome scene before them. Luv sat right next to Link and popped open the red potion.

“Neck wounds are tricky,” Luv muttered. She poured red potion onto a white rag. “Move your hands, Link. Just for a moment. You’re doing well.”

Link obeyed as she laid the bright red rags onto Fledge’s wound. He kept pressure on the wound covered by rags as Luv added more and more potion to soak into the rags and the healing skin.

“Out of the way!”

“Move!”

Link didn’t have time to realize there was a crowd that had formed around him and Luv. The red potion did its work, slowly but surely closing up the wound Link left him. Fledge’s eyes were closed now, completely passed out, his breaths came out in wheezes and choking noises.

“Stop pushing!”

“Move you idiot! Zelda’s trying to get through!”

Link and Luv looked up just as Zelda pushed through the crowd. “I have more red potion!” she shouted lifting the bottle before kneeling next to them. “What can I do?”

Luv gave a huff. “He has fluid in his lungs,” she explained in a tight voice. “He’s going to drown in his own blood without more advanced healing magic.”

Zelda nodded. “Understood.”

She swept her hair out of her face and planted one hand on the earth and one hand just hovering above Fledge. She took a deep breath and started to chant.

“ _Eh-ne ti-sin etu puxia para tois._ ”

Her hand above Fledge started to glow, just as the grass beneath her other hand started to wilt and die. Fledge’s whole body jerked and his eyes flew open just as he started coughing violently. Zelda and Luv backed away as Fledge turned over onto his knees and spit up blood. People surrounding them started to gasp and cheer at Zelda’s handiwork.

Fledge let out a wheeze, his lungs finally gathering a full breath as Luv turned to Zelda and gave her a pat on the shoulder. Link watched with relief as Fledge turned to him.

“Fledge,” Link said in a low whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

Fledge shook his head. “My fault. I know Zelda warned us all not to wake you, but you looked like you were having a terrible nightmare.”

Zelda looked at him with worried eyes. Link had tried to avoid any conversations with her that dealt with nightmares. He was certain she had her fair share lately. He didn’t want to burden her with his.

“I came to tell you that I saw Eagus, Janka and Toby run off with one of the saws. I think they were going to cut down more trees.”

Zelda pressed a hand to her forehead once she heard Fledge. “Oh no! Eagus, why?”

Link grabbed his sword, still wet with Fledge’s blood and stood up. The Skyloftians surrounding them looked at him, horrified, and quickly made a spacious path for him as he walked towards the woods.

“Link, wait! Stop!” Zelda called out, but he ignored her, dead set on his next task.

He walked around the wooded area closest to the tent village searching for any signs of the men. After searching around the outer perimeter, he entered deeper into the woods, staying close enough to the village. He finally found them towards the north eastern side of the village, less than a mile into the woods.

Eagus and Toby were using the saw against the base of the tree, while Janka stood by carrying thick rope. Link kept silent as he walked up to them. Janka was the first to see him and cursed at the sight.

“Goddesses! Link!” Janka gasped, and Eagus and Toby stopped sawing the tree as they looked up at him. “What happened?”

Link was aware that he was covered in Fledge’s blood. His sword was dripping with it, his hands completely covered, and even his face still felt wet from when he first cut into the boy’s flesh. He knew he looked gruesome, but he didn’t have time to clean up. He needed to stop them before they cut down that tree.

Toby and Janka looked at him in horror and stepped back, while Eagus stepped forwards, hand at the hilt of his sword.

“Link, what the hell did you do?” Eagus growled.

“We all made an agreement, Eagus,” Link stated. “You’re sneaking off and cutting down trees despite what we discussed this morning.”

Eagus shook his head and spoke in a grim voice. “I’m protecting our people. I can’t say the same for you.” He stepped forwards, drawing his sword and getting into a fighting stance.

Link instinctively lifted his sword. He hadn’t fought Eagus in so long, and it had only been in training as a knight. Here and now, it felt completely out of place.

Eagus charged at him, and Link quickly defended, suddenly aware of how predictable the man’s movements were. His old mentor fought just how all the knights of Skyloft were trained, with simple slashes and a mediocre guard. Link blocked each attack easily, sending off a few hits to distract him before turning to the side to avoid his instructor’s lunge attack, knocking his sword handle into the man's stomach, and then using the distraction to flip his sword around, quickly resting the blade against the man’s neck. Flecks of blood splattered against Eagus’s chin.

“Go,” Link ordered sternly. “Don’t let me catch you cutting down trees again.”

Eagus took a breath and nodded, looking just as scared of Link as the other two did. They all nervously stepped back, getting enough space between them and Link. Once they deemed themselves far enough, they all turned and ran.

Link bit his lip, wondering if he was doing the right thing. He lifted his right hand, still stained dark with blood, now only the moonlight illuminating the red stains in black.

Throughout his journey to stop Demise, he had imagined what life would be like once his quest had ended. He imagined that things would be like before. Peaceful. Calm. He could look forward to the simple things, like flying his loftwing with Zelda again. He could finally rest.

Deep down, he knew it was just a fantasy. Things seemed to only get more and more complicated ever since he first arrived at the surface. He walked over to the tree that Eagus and Toby had tried to cut through. He looked down at the indentation in the bark, running his hand along the groove.

“Link?” squeaked a voice.

Link turned to his right, spotting Lopsa, the short, plump member of the Kikwi tribe as the creature hobbled over to him.

“Thank you for protecting our homes, kee-paleep!” Lopsa said gratefully, bending forwards in a short bow. “When I saw those men with that saw, I got so scared.”

“Of course,” Link said. “I’m sorry they did this to your trees.”

Lopsa’s eyebrows twisted into concentration and stepped forwards to pat him on the leg. “Bucha and the others have been working very hard to find extra trees for you. Sorry it’s taking so long. Oh!”

Link watched as Lopsa’s legs started to shake. “What’s wrong?”

“I get this feeling, kwee,” Lopsa said, voice trembling. “In my legs, like when I did just before you first came here. Something really dark is following you, kwee.”

Link’s blood ran cold as he suddenly knew exactly what Lopsa was talking about. His left hand tightened around his sword. He had confirmation now. It wasn’t just him that could sense Ghirahim’s presence.

“I understand,” Link said, resigned. “I have to go now.”

Link turned away from Lopsa and headed back towards the village. He walked through the trees until he could see the tents. In the distance, he spotted one lone figure waiting for him.

Link’s eyes widened, and he stopped in his tracks, sword gripped tight as he spotted Ghirahim with his arms crossed, almost lazily leaning against a tree right next to the nearest tent. Link’s adrenaline raced. He had only 30 feet to rush towards the demon lord and take him down, but it would be much safer if he tried to draw Ghirahim closer to him and farther away from innocent people.

Ghirahim didn’t move to attack him either. He just looked at Link, up and down with a smile, before giving him a wink, snapping his fingers, and disappearing in a flurry of diamonds.

Link kept silent, listening carefully for the sound of the demon lord teleporting behind him. Muscles tense, heart racing. He kept his eye on dark corners in the woods, carefully turning around, looking for any signs of movement. Why was Ghirahim here? Why wasn’t he fighting him? What did he want now that Demise was gone?

_Revenge._

It had to be revenge, Link decided. The demon lord was trying to make him lose his mind, and it was working far too well. He had accidentally hurt Fledge because of him. Perhaps this was only step one on one long list to try and get Link to kill innocent people. Monsters like Ghirahim could only be happy watching people suffer and the rest of the world burn around them.

Link sheathed his sword just as he walked through the tent village. He needed to leave. He was a danger to everyone with Ghirahim around. If the Kikwi could sense that the demon lord was following him, then he was better off handling things alone. Thankfully, he didn’t have much to pack up.

“Link!” Zelda called out and rushed up to him. “There you are! I explained to Eagus what happened. Goddesses, he was about to rally an angry mob together to hunt you down.”

“I’m leaving,” Link announced. Angry mob or not, he couldn’t stay here.

Zelda tensed. “Where?”

“One of the islands, maybe,” Link answered, still unsure. “I’ll help Pumm take care of his pumpkins. I need to avoid people. They’ll just get in harm’s way.”

Zelda grabbed his hand and Link twitched, jerking his hand away for a split second, before actively putting effort into calming himself. She held on tightly, completely unsurprised by his reaction. She had seen him flinch and jerk away from her touch more than enough times these past few months.

“I don’t think you should be alone right now,” Zelda said, her voice low and serious. “The nightmares, the flashbacks… I know you don’t want to talk about them, but isolation will only make things-”

“I saw him,” Link interrupted her. “I saw Ghirahim, and it wasn’t a flashback.” Zelda gave him a skeptical look. “Lopsa, the Kikwi confirmed it. He said there was a darkness following me just like when Ghirahim first was trying to track you down. He’s been following me ever since we returned and the longer I stay here, the more opportunities he has to hurt people.”

Zelda paused and bit her lip. “I don’t want you to think I’m dismissing this, but Lopsa gets easily scared by a lot of things, doesn’t he? No one else has actually seen him.”

Link sighed, pulling his arm away from her grip, and started to walk away. They had argued about this before. He was tired of listening to her dismiss him like this.

“If he truly is following you, then this is what he wants!” Zelda shouted, running forwards to stop him. “What if this is a trap?”

Link gave her a resigned look. They both tried to make this work. They both tried to move on. She just had to accept that it would take far longer for him than her.

“Better me than anyone else,” he replied and walked away.

He gathered his supplies in a pack, walked down to the makeshift tent that served as the stables for loftwings. He immediately spotted the red plume of his guardian bird. He threw on his pack, gave his loftwing a pat, before guiding his bird out of the tent. With a quick swing of his leg over the saddle and a gentle nudge, the bird took off, happy to fly back to its familiar home.


	3. Battle at the Lumpy Pumpkin Part 1

Link stared at the pumpkin before him, picked up the knife, and made a quick cut into the giant fruit, surprised as the knife sank into it as easily as butter. He remembered a time when cutting up pumpkins for Pumm used to be hard work. Now they were easy compared to the force he needed to slice through the flesh and bones of monsters.

Kina carried several small pumpkins in hand as she pushed through the door of the Lumpy Pumpkin, now barren after its clientele had moved down to the surface. She glanced around the dining area with a smile before walking over to the back room and dropping off the pumpkins next to Link.

“After you broke our chandelier, my dad and I were worried you’d turn this place into a mess, but you kept things really clean.”

Link shrugged. “I try not to be as reckless as I used to. It’s much easier to keep clean when you’re the only one visiting at all.” He nodded over at the batch of pumpkins. “All these are being chopped up?”

“Yup!” Kina said as she grabbed another knife and started to cut into the pumpkins. “You can get rid of the seeds for these ones. We always had really limited space to grow the pumpkins, but now that we’ve moved to the surface with plenty of space, dad wants to plant new crops from only the biggest ones. He thinks we can get ones up to 40 or 50 pounds. Of course, he’ll ask me to haul them around!”

Link finished cutting up the pumpkin into large pieces and dumped the seeds in a tin to store later. “I’m sure if you ask any of the knights in the village, they would be happy to help. Everyone in the village seemed to work together even better than they did up here.”

“Yeah, it’s been great. I didn’t realize how little I saw some of our neighbors just because we were all on different islands,” Kina replied. “It really kept everyone so separated.”

There was silence as Link and Kina kept chopping up pumpkins. Link sensed that she was hinting as his own self-isolation with that last comment, but he didn’t want to add anything or argue that point.

“You know, Fledge beats himself up a lot for what happened,” Kina said in a serious tone.

Link sighed and slammed his knife through the pumpkin all the way down to the countertop. “He shouldn’t. He nearly died because of me.”

“You could stop by every so often to reassure him of that if-”

“That’s not why I came back here,” Link interrupted her.

“Oh, okay then.”

Kina kept silent as she chopped up the pumpkins into pieces. She started cutting up a larger one, and then let out a grunt as she failed to cut completely through the tough fruit, knife now stuck.

Link heard her signs of distress and turned to her.

“Need help?”

Kina blushed nervously. “Yeah, could you?”

She let go of the knife and stepped aside so that Link could cut through the pumpkin. He chopped the pumpkin into sections. Once he finished, she stepped forwards.

“Thanks,” she said nervously, grabbing the knife from his hand.

The contact of her hand on his was enough for Link to be sent straight into a flashback.

_“Hah. Quite the sword you have here.”_

Link stumbled away from Kina, heart racing, muscles tense. He struggled to control his breathing. The walls felt too closed in. Kina was standing way too close to him.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to-”

“I need some air,” Link stammered out before Kina could go on. He left the kitchen, rushing out the doors of the Lumpy Pumpkin.

He walked up to the edge of the island, gasping for breath. Pressing his hands against his eyes to desperately rid himself of the memory. He tried so hard not to think about that day in the Skyview Temple. Yet even after learning from his mistakes and successfully defeating the demon lord, small parts of it kept replaying over and over in his mind like a broken record. _Why didn’t you fight harder? Why did you let go of your sword? Why did you let yourself fail so miserably? Why? Why? Why?_

He stared over the edge of the floating island and suddenly the idea that had been slowly nagging at him from the moment he left the spring in the Skyview Temple had been brought to the forefront. It would be so easy to just step forwards into the open air.

He wouldn’t call his loftwing. He’d just fall. He’d accept his fate. A bit of wind and the crash before the finality of it all would be infinitely better than what he had been feeling this past week, this past month, _this past year_. All the anxiety, the hopelessness, the pain would go away. Everything that Ghirahim had done to him would go away.

“Planning on changing your mind?”

Link quickly stepped away from the edge as Kina exited out of the Lumpy Pumpkin with two full pouches of chopped pumpkin. She whistled for her loftwing.

“No, I was just thinking,” Link said vaguely.

He helped her tie the pouches to the bird before Kina swung her hips over. She waved Link goodbye and flew off into the cloud cover below.

He watched her carefully before he gave a whistle to his loftwing. In a matter of seconds, the large bird flew up and landed carefully onto the island. It took a moment for Link to realize his loftwing had been attentively waiting beneath the island, ready to jump at his master’s call at a moment’s notice. Link tensed as he walked up to the bird, patting its beak. His loftwing definitely cared for him. How could he be so selfish to not consider that he’d be forcing his bird to watch its master fall to their death?

Link swung his leg over the saddle and gave his loftwing a gentle nudge, sending it flying towards Skyloft. He purposefully avoided the homes and business area, even though most of the people had cleared out under Zelda’s advisement. They were all just as hopeful as Zelda was to rebuild on the surface. Link had gone along with her idea, hoping that now that Demise was gone, that everything would get better.

Link guided his loftwing to the back of the goddess statue, where he first met Fi and drew the goddess sword. The door that allowed him entry into inside the Statue of the Goddess was now closed off. He stepped off his bird and felt for that very door, cold stone unrelenting where it once opened up to him. He traced the edges of the phoenix symbol embedded in stone with his hand and gave a withered sigh.

“I tried, Fi,” Link whispered to the wall. “I really thought all of this would’ve ended. Hylia’s mission was over. My destiny was complete. We all would move on without Demise’s shadow looming over us. Zelda was safe.”

He gave a weak smile and pressed his forehead to the stone. His eyes started to water.

“But I don’t feel safe. I can’t move on. I feel like I’m still fighting, except now I don’t have you to help me fight the darkness anymore, and I’m just swimming in it.”

Link slid down the wall, body shaking. He turned to his side, sitting in a balled crouching position, gripping the stone wall.

“Am I selfish for wanting that? Everyone else is fine. They’re so happy. They’re all moving on, just like you said. Yet the only thing that gives me any comfort at all is having a sword in my hand ready to kill.”

Link gave a choked laugh. “Am I still the chosen hero? Is this what being a hero is? I used to kill monsters out of necessity, but somehow it became something else… I felt justified… Good for doing so. They call me a hero, but Zelda and the others do so much more good than I ever could.”

And then in a low growl, a voice Link recognized from his worst nightmares spoke aloud.

_“She doesn’t deserve you.”_

The words didn’t register in Link’s mind, only the sound of the voice as he sprang to his feet, sword immediately drawn. His loftwing, which had waited patiently by the cliffside, ruffled its feathers and stepped back at the sight of its owner rearing for an attack.

Link gritted his teeth, searching around the place wildly for any signs of the demon lord.

“I bet you think this is funny,” Link shouted to the open air. “Stalking me like this. Only showing up to get a word in and then leaving… It’s creepy. It’s cowardly. It’s pathetic. What happened to the great Demon Lord Ghirahim who promised to snuff out the flame of my life?”

He received nothing but empty silence. He wasn’t going to let his guard down. Not again. He swore to himself he wouldn’t, no matter how many times Ghirahim would toy with him and then disappear. Link didn’t know what the demon lord was planning, but he certainly wasn’t going to pretend that every instance he showed up wasn’t part of some elaborate plan.

Link waited, ears strained, muscles tense for close to another minute, before his loftwing stepped forwards, head bowed in attempt to calm its master. Link bit his lip, his arms shaking before finally letting up. He sheathed sword and walked over to the bird, patting its beak before getting back on the saddle. His loftwing set off, flying back towards Pumpkin Landing.

Link held on tightly to his loftwing as they flew under the rocky outcroppings of Skyloft then far up in the air, above to see the visible shape of Pumpkin Landing. Just as he got closer and closer, he suddenly spotted another loftwing flying up to Pumpkin Landing before him. He recognized the loftwing as Groose’s bird. Link watched as Groose’s loftwing landed gracefully on the island, but only a hooded figure far too skinny looking to be Groose stepped off the bird.

Link’s loftwing immediately sensed its owner’s nervousness and slowed to a halt in the air in response. Link watched with bated breath from afar as the hooded figure knocked on the doors to the Lumpy Pumpkin.

Link bit down his intense desire to immediately draw his sword and attack the figure from his advantage above. The stranger hadn’t made any indications of violence yet. Maybe Groose had lent out his loftwing to this stranger for good reason? He gritted his teeth and gave his loftwing a nudge, forcing the bird to land despite sensing its master’s apprehension.

The stranger quickly turned towards Link just as he landed onto the island. Link quickly hopped off his bird and gave the loftwing another nudge. If this turned into a fight, he’d rather have his loftwing far away from the danger.

“Hello,” greeted the stranger. Link looked over at the man, spotting red eyes, tanned skin, and whitish blonde hair wrapped with bandages underneath the hood. A red tear was painted under his left eye. He had the same thick Sheikan accent that a young Impa once had.

“I have a message to deliver to the chosen Hero of the Goddess Hylia,” the man stated firmly. “Do you know where he is?”

Link tensed knowing that Impa didn’t send him. If she did, she would describe Link well enough for another person to recognize him. More importantly, Impa knew he despised being referred to ‘the chosen Hero.’

“A message from who?” Link asked.

The Sheikah gave a huff. “That does not matter. I must find the chosen hero. I was told he lived here.”

“Told by who?”

“Hylia, who goes by the name Zelda to your people.”

“Why do you have Groose’s loftwing?”

“He lent it to me after I told him I was looking for the hero. It’s important.”

Link grimaced but stepped past the Sheikah, who immediately tensed and stepped aside. He held the door open and gestured for the stranger to step inside. The man was hesitant, but grudgingly agreed to enter the Lumpy Pumpkin. They both stepped inside, and Link walked over to the kitchen to silently gather some water.

“I appreciate your hospitality, but I must find the chosen hero as soon as possible,” the Sheikah stated impatiently.

Link brought out a pitcher of water and cups, setting them down at the nearest table. “I am him. Please call me Link.”

The Sheikah froze and eyed his sword. “Lies. You do not carry the Master Sword with you.”

Link sat down and poured water into a cup and took a sip. “I did carry that sword, but my mission is now complete, and the sword was sealed away.” He gestured to the chair across from him. “You’re welcome to sit and drink if you wish. I only have the basic necessities to give out to travelers at the moment.”

Link could tell from the dirt on the stranger’s cloak that he had traveled for a very long time. He couldn’t offer much, but water and food would be enough until he prepared his speech insisting that the stranger stay at one of the houses in Skyloft.

The Sheikah only stood there in confusion. “You are not what I expected.”

Link shrugged. “Your name, traveler? And then you can tell me your message.”

The Sheikah hesitantly removed his hood with a conflicted look. “My name is Dorian.”

Link gave Dorian a reassuring smile. “Good to meet you Dorian.”

“Are you certain that the sword is sealed away?” Dorian asked suspiciously.

Link gave a sigh. “Trust me. I’ve checked. I am incapable of using the Master Sword any longer.” He supposed he could try bombing the Goddess Statue open, but he had no intention of causing that level of destruction on the sacred statue.

“Impossible,” Dorian stammered and shook his head. “Our seers are never wrong. You are meant to take up the Master Sword very soon.”

Link frowned and tensed. “Why? Is Demise coming back?”

Dorian shook his head, getting upset. “No. They described it to me most clearly. You will take up the Master Sword. You will come to our village. You will shroud yourself in darkness and then burn our village to the ground!”

At the very worst moment, Link heard the distinct sound of Ghirahim teleporting. Dorian nearly jumped and withdrew a particularly sharp looking sickle from his cloak and Link instinctively stood up and withdrew his sword, looking around wildly for any signs of the demon lord.

“Is this a ruse?” Dorian spat, now fully suspicious of Link. “Who else is here with you?”

“He’s not with me!” Link argued. “I’m being followed. You need to leave. Now!”

Dorian didn’t listen. Instead he ran towards Link, hopping onto the table and swung his sickle down. Link quickly dodged out of the way. Sword at the ready, he put some distance between him and the Sheikah.

“What did you do to Groose, Dorian?” Link demanded. “I’m assuming you had to convince him to give up his loftwing and I don’t think he’d appreciate you trying to kill me, even if it is in the defense of your village.”

Dorian opened his mouth and reached out his bare hand, shouted a few words Link couldn’t understand. Red and black energy glowed from his hand and shot out at Link, who quickly ducked. The spell hit the wooden walls of the Lumpy Pumpkin behind him, turning the wood pitch black.

Link grabbed a nearby stool and chucked it at Dorian, before running forwards. The Sheikah quickly knocked the chair away and just barely got his sickle up in time to block Link’s sword from cleaving through his neck.

Dorian ducked before his defense could relent and threw out a seed on the ground. Link was quick to hop backwards, wishing he had his shield to defend the unexpected as a flash of light lit up the room. The light seared his eyes, and he blinked a few times, recognizing immediately that the Sheikah disappeared.

_He’s going to appear behind you._

Link heard the cast of another spell and spun around just as the black magic hurdled towards him. He was prepared. He readied his blade to reflect the spell back, giving a controlled swing as the blade touched the magic curse.

All of Link’s nerves lit up like fire. He let out a gasp in pain as the spell failed to reflect back, transferring into the blade and causing him agony. He didn’t dare let go of his weapon, despite the pain radiating from his hands, but the force of the spell knocked him off his feet.

Dorian made another lunge at him again, swinging the point of his sickle down at Link’s chest. Link quickly fought through the haze of pain and rolled out of the way just in time. He was on his knees, sword blocking as Dorian swung again at him. The Sheikah sent another set of slices as Link quickly blocked each from a crouching position. As he got to his feet, he caught the inside of the hook of Dorian’s sickle and yanked the weapon out of the man’s hand, flinging it across the room.

Dorian tried to back away immediately, while Link stepped forwards and quickly pointed the sword at his neck as a warning.

“Answer my question, Dorian,” Link said, completely out of breath. The magic curse had left him winded, his hand and sword shaking. “What did you do to Groose, the owner of the loftwing you used to get here?”

“He is unharmed,” Dorian muttered. “Unlike you. There will be plenty more sent after me, many of them skilled warriors.”

“Call them off, then,” Link demanded. “I have no need to take up the Master Sword again, and no desire to burn down your village.”

Dorian shook his head and then lifted his hand, opening his mouth to cast another spell. Link kneeled to a crouching position, spinning around and slamming his leg against Dorian’s. Dorian fell on his back, and Link was immediately by his side, with a hand around his chin in warning, pressing up to silence him.

“No more magic,” Link demanded. “I don’t want to fight you.”

Dorian quickly moved his hand, reaching at his belt and withdrawing a dagger and immediately swung at Link. Link released his chin and moved back as the blade grazed his cheek, before quickly grabbing the hand holding the knife and twisting it. Dorian cried out, grabbing the knife with his other hand and lunging forwards with the dagger pointed towards Link. Link put all his weight forwards as he quickly twisted the blade around. Dorian quickly lost his strength, allowing Link to shove the dagger directly into the Sheikah’s chest.

Link cursed, gasping for breath as he saw Dorian fall back to the ground, blood starting to pool around his chest. He struggled to remember to breath before getting himself to speak again.

“I’ll get you some red potion,” Link said as he started to stand.

“No,” Dorian said with a gasp. “Let me die in honor.” He grabbed the dagger and pulled it out of his chest.

“No!” Link shouted, reaching out to stop him, but it was too late. Dorian flung the dagger away as blood started to spurt from his wound, pooling around the floor. Before Link could even reach down to stop the blood flow, he heard someone start to slowly clap behind him.

He immediately tensed, identifying exactly in the room the clapping was coming from before standing fully. He turned around, utterly unsurprised to see the monster that haunted nearly every moment of his life the past few months.


	4. Battle at the Lumpy Pumpkin Part 2

Ghirahim stood there, dressed in his red cape, with a large grin on his face. Link glared at him.

“So, you finally show yourself,” Link said with gritted teeth. He should’ve known that the demon lord was waiting for a special moment to reveal himself that put him at the advantage.

“Things finally picked up for once,” Ghirahim said amusedly. “You live a very boring life, Link.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Link replied, feeling anything but sorry. He lifted up his sword. “Are you finally ready to face me?”

Ghirahim shook his head. “While I do love our skirmishes so very much, I’m not actually here to fight you.”

“Too bad,” Link said in a low voice, and charged at the demon lord.

Ghirahim was quick to disperse his red cape and materialize a sword in defense as Link sent a flurry of sword slashes at him. Within seconds, he was primed for a fight as he expertly defended each of Link’s attacks.

After fighting Ghirahim for a total of three times already, he now had a strong familiarity with the demon lord’s strengths and weaknesses. His main weak point at his core never moved, and thus Link had a similar strategy for every one of their battles. It took swing after swing to move his guard further and further away from his core. He just had to move that guard far enough away to send a thrusting attack to his weak point. However, Ghirahim wasn’t always predictable, and he knew just when Link was able to let down his guard as well.

Ghirahim found an opening before Link did and proceeded to send a kick straight to his chest, knocking him into a nearby table.

“This is pointless,” Ghirahim huffed. “I’ve always ended up the victor in these bouts. Stop wasting your time.”

Link let out a pained laugh. “Always the victor? Then why were you always the one running off by the end of it?”

Ghirahim glared at him before stepping forwards with a wide swing, black energy crackling through his blade. Link barely managed to hop onto the table to avoid the attack before stepping back down onto the floor on the opposite side, just in time for the demon lord to throw the table to his left, wood slamming against the wall and breaking into pieces.

They both fought mercilessly, twisting, dodging, blocking at high speed. Ghirahim tried teleporting behind him every so often, but by now Link had excelled in predicting exactly where the demon lord would appear next. Link took every possibly opportunity to be at the offensive and pushed Ghirahim across the room until their fight took them up the stairs. Ghirahim growled in frustration as Link repeatedly dodged his swings before twisting to angle another shot at his core. Ghirahim had hopped up three or four steps just in time to avoid the attacks.

The demon lord was forced to step onto the patio on the second floor and Link quickly followed, pushing him with enough force to break apart the wooden safety guard surrounding the edge. Link made another set of slashes that left Ghirahim open before going for another jab to the core. Ghirahim responded by leaping up and landing almost delicately on the flat edge of his sword. Link’s eyes widened in shock as the demon lord leaped again from his sword, flipping frontwards and aiming a slash at his head. Link tucked into a forward roll to avoid it, only to fall completely off the second floor.

Link barely managed to land on his feet back in the dining area, quickly turning around as Ghirahim stood at the second floor, merely waiting and smiling at him.

“Your Sheikah is going to die soon.”

Link gave a glance over at Dorian, who had passed out, blood forming a large pool around him. “Why do you care?”

“You should kill him,” Ghirahim suggested, gesturing to the dying man. “You know. End his suffering and all that. Whatever a good little chosen hero would call it. Mercy, correct?”

Link raised an eyebrow at him. He never expected words like that to leave Ghirahim’s mouth. “What is this? What the hell do you want?”

Ghirahim snapped his fingers, and Link immediately flinched at the sound, but the demon lord didn’t disappear. Instead, a black sword, shaped almost identical to the Master Sword, appeared floating in front of Link, who stepped back and raised his own sword, eyes switching back and forth from the sword to Ghirahim suspiciously. The sword didn’t move, only hovered in front of him.

“I’m a weapon, Link,” Ghirahim stated. “A sword needs a master, and I only seek the best.”

Link froze. Ghirahim’s words took a bit of processing for him to even consider what he was offering.

“Take my sword, Link,” Ghirahim commanded, raising his fist in the air with confident determination. “Once you take the Sheikah’s life. You will have my endless power. Protection. Magic. Anything you desire. Anything you can possibly dream of. It’s yours for the taking with me by your side.”

Link thought he had lost his mind right then and there. He must have been dreaming the most twisted, most disturbing dream of all. This couldn’t be real.

“You must be joking,” Link said in shock. “This is a trick.”

Ghirahim shook his head. “No trick. You know that if I wanted to kill you, I had plenty of opportunities to do so. I’m in this for the long game, and if I desire a new master, why wouldn’t I choose the one who bested my last?”

Link lowered his sword slightly but sent a glare to Ghirahim. “I won’t fight by the side of a rapist.”

Ghirahim snorted, insulted by the accusation. “Rapist! I never touched your precious Hylia!”

Link’s sword arm started to shake as his body grew hot. “I meant me. _You raped me_!”

He didn’t mean to shout those words aloud, but Ghirahim’s immediate response of denial had sent Link into a rage. He immediately regretted it as the words echoed throughout the Lumpy Pumpkin, amongst the scattered remains of what used to be tables and stools.

Ghirahim gave a sigh, as if the whole situation was an annoyance. “Goddesses damnit! The Sheikah died.” He snapped his fingers and the sword floating in front of Link disappeared. Ghirahim slowly walked towards the stairs, but never let his eyes off of Link.

“Honestly it was so long ago,” Ghirahim said, brushing him off. “Personally, I remained in the past, so hundreds of years have gone by since our first lovely meeting. Still, I distinctly remember you enjoying what I did. It was just a bit of groping after all. I didn’t stick my dick in you like some of the brainless, virgin-obsessed demons would.”

Link would’ve liked to say that he could remember everything clearly. He wanted to completely shut down Ghirahim’s pathetic excuse for an argument, but there were definite blanks in Link’s memory from that time as well. He remembered only bits and pieces, mostly from the repeated nightmares and flashbacks he experienced. Link didn’t know what was true, only what he felt in the aftermath.

“The details don’t matter,” Link said, trying to will away the lump in his throat. “I didn’t enjoy it. I didn’t want it. It was rape.”

“Fine!” Ghirahim huffed with his hands up mockingly. “I’m sorry! I won’t ever do it again. If you become my master, you give out the orders, so it won’t even be a problem!”

“I couldn’t ever tolerate being _your master_ for a second!” Link replied viciously, shaking his head, stepping back and raising his sword. “Now come back down here so I can finally kill you.”

Ghirahim rolled his eyes and smirked, slowly taking steps down the stairs. “Oh Link, I know you’re trying to make it sound so horrible, but it really wasn’t.”

Ghirahim waved his sword at Link in taunt. “You were such a pathetic, naïve little sky-child back then, and an absolutely terrible swordsman. You had no idea what you were up against. I could’ve killed you three times over, but I didn’t despite my orders from Demise. I _chose_ to spare your life.”

Link strained to remember what he could. He knew he had his sword in hand by the end of their first fight. He had no idea how he managed to get it back, but he did, and it was enough to force Ghirahim to retreat. He knew he stopped him. He was absolutely certain that he would’ve probably died if he hadn’t got his sword back.

“You didn’t choose. I-"

“And what happened since then?” Ghirahim added, interjecting before Link could finish. “I gave you a wake-up call and you listened! You grew into the most skilled swordsman I have ever seen in all my years. You’ve successfully plowed through every obstacle I have thrown your way, and you even saved the world. I spared your life for a bit of fun, and you became the great chosen hero because of it.”

“That’s not how this works!”

Ghirahim took the final step down the stairwell and grinned. “Admit it. I created you.”

Link wanted to charge at him again, but his vision was growing blurry. He couldn’t let his guard down. Not now.

“ _You ruined my life!_ ”

There was a long moment of silence, until Link could hear sounds from the outside. He distinctly heard a voice call out for help.

Ghirahim looked over at the doors and frowned. “Your village idiot with the horrible hair is having trouble outside.” The demon lord snapped his fingers and then vanished in a flurry of diamonds.

Link rushed outside and looked up in the sky. True to Ghirahim’s word, Groose and Cawlin were outside on Cawlin’s brown loftwing, while 3 furnixes flew around them, spitting fireballs at them. Cawlin’s loftwing was barely avoiding the attacks while the two Skyloftians clung on to the bird for dear life. Link rushed back inside and quickly grabbed his bow and quiver full of arrows from under the sink before racing back outside again.

“Groose!” Link called out as he dropped his quiver in front of him and grabbed an arrow. Groose spotted him and tried to push the bird closer to Pumpkin Landing.

Link took aim at the furnix closest to the ground, firing an arrow that landed right into the bird’s chest. Link grabbed another arrow and strung it to his bow, eyeing the furnix closest to Cawlin and Groose. The arrow missed, but it was enough for the second furnix to stop in its tracts once it saw another enemy attacking it.

The second furnix decided to turn around and attack Link instead. Link fired more arrows just as the monster rushed at him spitting fireballs in his direction. Link quickly landed one arrow straight to the head of the furnix before he stepped out of the way as fireballs landed onto the dirt path where he once stood. The flames died out quickly, only dirt and a few bits of grass to feed the flames.

The last furnix quickly realized its comrades had fallen, most likely dead, and decided to fly away before Link could get a good shot in. Cawlin’s loftwing finally landed, and Link was face to face with a panicked Groose.

“Link!” Groose gasped as he hopped off the bird. “You’re alive!” He opened his arms, ready to give Link a hug.

Link quickly stepped back to avoid the embrace while Groose awkwardly dropped his arms. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

Groose grabbed his head. “I don’t think so. Goddess Hylia! We thought that Sheikah guy was one of Granny’s men! He gave us these drinks that made us fall asleep and then when I woke up, my loftwing was gone!”

Right on cue, Groose’s loftwing landed on island, giving a sympathetic wark to Cawlin’s bird, who suffered from a few singed feathers.

“Where is he?” Groose said throwing up his hands into balled fists. “No one takes my bird like that and gets away with it!”

“Groose,” Link held a hand up and stopped him in his tracts. “Where is Zelda? Is she still with the village?”

Groose froze and lowered his hands. Cawlin gave Link a frown.

“She left,” Cawlin answered. “Around 3 weeks ago.”

Groose shook his head. “Granny asked her to help out the Sheikah Village! They said they’ve been having more and more vicious monster raids on the village and couldn’t figure out why. Can you believe they accused us of driving all the monsters away towards their village?”

“So where did she go?” Link asked, getting frustrated. He didn’t like this at all, especially after hearing what Dorian’s seers had said. “Did she send any messages back that she was alright?”

Groose and Cawlin shrugged.

“We haven’t heard from her since then,” Groose admitted, embarrassed.

“And Impa?” Link asked.

“You know Granny. She’ll never leave the Sealed Grounds.”

Link let out a breath of frustration. He tightened his fists. He should go to Impa first, despite the strong temptation to immediately track down Zelda. He didn’t like that she had disappeared like this. No, he needed to see Impa first and confirm with her whatever prophecy Dorian was talking about. What if the seers were right and he did end up burning down a whole village?

_Calm down. You don’t have the Master Sword, so none of this can come true._

“That Sheikah guy asked about you,” Cawlin added. “I think Pumm mentioned that you were helping him at the Lumpy Pumpkin, and he overheard.”

“Where is he, Link?” Groose asked.

Link bit his lip before he started to answer. “He tried to kill me.”

Groose and Cawlin started to get nervous once Link became hesitant to finish.

“You’re okay though, right?” Groose asked. “It looks like he cut your face a bit.”

Groose made a gesture to his cheek. Link followed the movement and came back with blood on his fingers.

“What happened?”

Link hesitated to answer at first, but then decided not to beat around the bush. “He’s dead.”

The two of them grew silent, eyes wide, not even comprehending the words. There was a pause, before Link figured that he needed to speak up to try and break Groose and Cawlin out of shock.

“He’s-” Link began. “He’s inside. I should clean up before we go.”

Link realized that task was going to be more difficult than he thought as soon as he opened the doors into the Lumpy Pumpkin. The spot where Dorian’s magic hit the wall was burnt and charred black. Several tables and chairs were broken into pieces. There were sword marks in the walls and floor from both his fight with Dorian and Ghirahim.

The most disturbing part was the dead Sheikah lying on the floor surrounded by a pool of blood. Groose and Cawlin took one look at the body and immediately turned around, both retching right outside the entrance of the Lumpy Pumpkin.

Link ignored them as he went into the back of the kitchen, grabbing two shovels. He turned and started walking towards the exit, pausing as he got closer to the stairwell.

_“Admit it. I created you.”_

He felt his throat close up tightly at the reminder of those words. He swallowed convulsively, trying to relieve the pain and quickly wiped his eyes with his sleeve just as they started to get wet.

_No time to show weakness. He could still be here._

Link stepped outside, eyeing the terrified looks of Groose and Cawlin. “I need you two to help me dig a hole.” He made a grimace. “The kind that a body can fit in.”

Groose wiped his mouth in disgust. “Isn’t there an easier way? What do you do with monster bodies?”

“I burn them,” Link answered. “Monsters burn very easily and very quickly. I can only guess that humans do not.”

Humans and monsters were very different in that sense. It was through sheer visceral experience that Link knew that the skin of most monsters was dried, tough, and coarse. Their blood was black and oily. There were a few times when Link had burned bokoblin bodies, often to stay warm during a cold night or ward off intruders to get some sleep. The smell, however, was horrendous enough to only make it a last resort.

With that answer, Groose took a shovel and started to dig. Link followed him. Cawlin nervously hovered by them for a moment, moving piles of dirt so they wouldn’t spill back into the hole. After what felt like an hour, Link noticed that Cawlin had left and started to carry the broken pieces of wood outside and wrapped them up in rope.

After digging close to an even 3 feet into the ground, Link decided that the hole in the ground was sufficient.

“Enough,” Link said to Groose, who looked grateful to finally get a break. The red-haired boy was completely red-faced and sweaty.

Link walked back inside, steeled himself and ignored the flip of his stomach as he grabbed Dorian’s shoulders, dragging the stiffening body out of the Lumpy Pumpkin and slowly but surely into the hole he and Groose just dug up.

Groose and Cawlin had backed away while Link had roughly thrown the body into the hole. He was feeling out of breath, but that didn’t stop him from immediately pushing a layer of dirt over the hole to cover the body. He looked up when he realized that the two of them looked too pale and scared to go near him.

He was trying to remain calm and patient at their response, but there was a part of Link that felt satisfied watching Groose’s reaction to the whole situation. Link had given Groose compliments and reassurance when the boy helped him fight off the Imprisoned. The makeshift catapult was definitely ingenious and helpful. But Groose only had to fire his catapult from a safe distance away while Link had to fight it up close and personal, nearly getting stomped on in the process multiple times. After Demise was defeated, the Skyloftians treated Groose with the same level of adoration and awe as Link, but Link would only secretly admit that he was a bit jealous. Groose remained almost entirely unscathed after everything that had happened last year. In contrast, Link felt permanently scarred.

_Welcome to the real world, Groose. When you look upon its horrors, you wouldn’t dare want your name to be associated with it._

“There’s still blood to clean up in the Lumpy Pumpkin,” Link stated, hinting to Groose and Cawlin who stood there frozen. “Can you two finish this? While I go…” Link finished by gesturing towards the empty restaurant. “I just need you to move the dirt back.”

Groose and Cawlin got the picture as they picked up the shovels and started to haul dirt over the body. Link walked back inside, grabbing several old towels and a bucket, filling it with water and soap. He took a look at the damage. A large pool of blood that filled close to a quarter of the room, and that excluded the bloodstains left from dragging Dorian’s body outside. He resigned himself to quickly soaking up the towels in Dorian’s blood, turning them dark red, wringing them out in the bucket.

When Link had to clean monster blood out of his clothes and tunic, it took plenty of soap, water, patience, and some very rough and thorough scrubbing. There were times when Link had just given up, making a quick return to Skyloft in between temples just to get a new tunic. The oils in monster blood made him too vulnerable to fire, and the smell of dried monster blood meant that his enemies could easily sniff him out.

Human blood was much more liquid-like and watery. Fledge’s bloodstains had come off easier than expected, but he hadn’t had to clean up much. Dorian, however, had bled out several pints of blood, and even though Link knew the human bloodstains would wash off easier, the sheer amount he had to clean up suddenly overwhelmed him. He kept wringing out the towels full into the bucket, but it felt like it was never enough. Over and over again, he squeezed out sopping wet towels of blood and yet he couldn’t see the wooden floor beneath him. The pool was endless. He wasn’t going to be able to clean all of this up.

“Finished yet?” Ghirahim appeared, leaning against the door.

“Go away,” Link hissed. He focused on completing his task. The demon lord didn’t make any moves to attack him and he really didn’t want to start a fight with Groose and Cawlin nearby.

Ghirahim ignored him. “That was a good attempt to reflect the Sheikah’s spell back at him. Too bad it would’ve never worked.” He snorted in amusement. “Only you would be spoiled enough to think that every sword can reflect magic like the Master Sword.”

Link purposefully didn’t react to Ghirahim’s comment. If the demon lord was looking for a new master, Link just had to ignore him. Surely if he rejected him enough times, Ghirahim would finally stop haunting him like this. Either that, or Link would finally catch him at a point of weakness and kill him once and for all.

“My sword would’ve easily reflected that spell back,” Ghirahim stated proudly and then smirked at him. “The surface has plenty of magic users, Link. The Sheikah make up most of them and they just declared you as their enemy. If you take up my blade, you will never be susceptible to their magic ever again.”

Link ignored him. It wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth the nightmares, the flashbacks, the taunts, or even the unbearably sickening feeling Link got in his stomach whenever Ghirahim eyed him up like a piece of meat.

“Something to keep in mind,” Ghirahim said. “I’ll be waiting!”

He snapped his fingers and disappeared into a flurry of diamonds. Link immediately tensed, adjusting himself to easily stand up and fight if he needed to, but Ghirahim didn’t appear again.

After enough scrubbing had got all the blood up, Link sighed and dumped the red water down the drain, rinsed his reddened hands thoroughly, and quickly tried to wipe down the red and brown tinged wet stains from his knees.

He grabbed his bow and arrows, strapping them on his back with his sword and decided that those weapons would be enough for him for whatever journey lied ahead. He no longer had any desire strap on every tool imaginable to explore the surface world, especially since the tasks he set out were to simply find certain people. _He was done_ searching for ancient relics in the deepest temples in the land.

As he stepped outside, he saw that Groose and Cawlin had finished burying the body. They both leaned on the wooden fence silently, staring at the ground. Link walked up to them, giving them a sympathetic look.

“Thanks for your help,” Link said. “Ready to go back to the village?”

“How are you so calm about all this?” Groose asked him suspiciously. Cawlin looked up at Groose nervously.

Link tensed, sensing immediate hostility in Groose’s question. “How do you expect me to act? I didn’t want to leave Kino or Pumm with a dead body to rot in their own home, if and when they returned here.”

“You’re treating this like one big chore,” Groose stated angrily. “A man just died. He probably had a family and friends. Do you feel anything at all for him?”

Link remembered feeling guilty immediately after stabbing Dorian in the chest. He wanted the man to live, but… Just hearing Dorian talk about dying ‘in honor’ made him less sympathetic to the Sheikah. He reminded himself that the man had tried to kill him. If he felt guilty for every death he caused, he would’ve never survived just getting into the first temple.

He didn’t give Groose an answer to his question. Instead, he bit his lip in silence. Anything would sound like a pathetic excuse.

“You’re supposed to be the hero!” Groose shouted at him. “How can you wear that title and act like this?”

“I _never_ asked for that title,” Link snapped at him. “Or your expectations of how I do things. You have no idea what I went through, Groose.”

“I fought by your side!” Groose argued.

“You threw stones at a beast from a safe distance!” Link argued, resisting every urge to punch the boy. “You can lie to everyone else about what you did, but don’t you dare ask me to blindly pretend! You don’t know what it’s like to-”

He cut himself off before he could really describe what it was like to be on the front lines, to watch the light of life leave those monster’s eyes and know that the only alternative would be your own death. But he couldn’t bring himself to explain those horrors. Simple words wouldn’t do it justice and if he really went into detail, he would just be tearing open a wound that had just started to heal. He just couldn’t explain it.

“I don’t know what it’s like to what?” Groose asked mockingly.

Link nearly bit his tongue as he spoke with resignation. “Forget it. If you think I murdered that man in cold blood, so be it. Just don’t get in my way.”

He initially wanted to wait for Groose and Cawlin to leave in order to make sure more furnixes didn’t come to attack them on the trip back down, but now he couldn’t bring himself to care. He quickly gave a whistle to his loftwing and hopped off the edge of cliff. His loftwing was there immediately to catch him.

Link started to fly down to the surface but stopped after flying something close to 300 feet below the Pumpkin Landing. He had never witnessed furnixes openly leaving the Sky Keep Temple and attacking Groose and Cawlin like that. He couldn’t forgive himself if the two of them were attacked once more after he left. He watched as Groose and Cawlin took off with their respective loftwings, scanning from a safe distance away to make sure nothing showed up to attack them, before focusing on his own destination.

As soon as Link got closer and closer to the Skyloftian-made village on the surface, he immediately noticed the number of wooden houses created had tripled since he had last seen the village. He landed in what used to be a wooded area, but now looked barren, covered in tree stumps, with the grass drying and wilting in response to the abrupt overexposure from the sun.


	5. Lost in the Woods

Link landed his loftwing and felt a bad taste in his mouth. He felt hopelessly disappointed at the sight of the barren wasteland full of tree stumps less than a hundred feet away from the village. He should’ve stayed. He should’ve made sure the Kikwi were protected. He should’ve done more to get it through the Skyloftians’ heads that there were real consequences from this. If only he didn’t have to leave. If only he wasn’t being stalked by a monster capable of killing everyone around him. He bent down and brushed his hand against the worn-down surface of one of many tree stumps with regret.

“Link!” someone called out.

Link stood up and turned around to see Gaepora walking up to him. He narrowed his eyes as Gaepora looked ashamed at the sight before him.

“Groose told me what happened before he left to get his loftwing,” Gaepora said. “Are you alright?”

Link nodded silently. The tension rose as the older man realized where Link had landed. The lack of trees where there once was many only a few months ago was far too apparent to the both of them.

“I’m sorry, Link,” he immediately said. “We had a bad storm and were desperate for materials for shelter. We had to put the safety of our people first.”

“I’m not the one to apologize to,” Link snapped, dismissing him with more underlying anger than he’d like to admit. “Do you know where Zelda went to?”

Gaepora frowned, looking hopeless. “Two Sheikan guards sent in by Impa were to escort her to a village east of the Eldin Summit. I forbade her from going considering how much trouble they said they were having with monster infestations, but she insisted on going against my wishes. You know how Zelda gets when she’s determined to do something.”

Link nodded. It sounded like she was protected for the journey. At least he hoped so. He really hoped the prophecy only applied to him and that was the only reason he experienced the sudden hostility from the Sheikah.

“I have to go see Impa and then I’m going after-”

“Link!!!” shouted another voice.

A tear streaked Karane suddenly ran up to him. She had heavy bags under her eyes, and she looked pale and exhausted.

“Karane,” Gaepora started, but was quickly interrupted.

“Link! Thank the goddess you’re here,” Karane said in a hoarse voice, giving out every so often in squeaks. “We’ve lost Pipit. He went hunting in the deep woods 5 days ago and never came back. Please!” She grabbed his hand, and he immediately jumped, pulling away. She looked confused at his reaction but then ignored it and persisted. “Please, I beg of you! You have to find him!”

“We’ve searched as far as we could, Karane,” Gaepora explained.

“He’s still alive out there,” Karane sobbed. “I know it. Please!”

Link glared at Gaepora. “Do you remember when Zelda and I said that the Kikwi were helpful allies? This is _exactly_ the situation they could’ve helped us with.”

Gaepora looked ashamed once more, nodding solemnly. “We tried to reach out to them, but we cannot find them anywhere.”

Link stared at a nearby stump and deliberated. He was worried about Zelda, but he could estimate that the trip to the Sheikan village could take up to several days. He still needed to talk to Impa. Looking for wherever Pipit ended up could take a very long time, especially if he was looking for a dead body. Once again, Link desperately wished he had Fi with him. Her dowsing ability would come incredibly handy in this moment. Still…

“What direction did Pipit initially go?” Link asked.

Karane looked relieved. “Thank you! This way. Please. Let me show you.”

Link and Gaepora followed as Karane led them through the village. People automatically stopped whatever they were doing, blacksmithing, cleaning clothes, hammering nails, just to stop and stare at Link. The stares ranged from a mix of hopefulness and fear. He was slightly surprised to see Gorko, carrying a giant wooden log, give him a cheerful wave, before placing the wood at the feet of Eagus, who gripped his saw tightly as he looked at Link with suspicion.

“Link!” Fledge called out, rushing up to him.

“Fledge, not now,” Gaepora was quick to tell him.

“It’s okay, Fledge,” Link said, remembering what Kina had told him. “There’s a lot going on right now. Don’t worry about me.”

Fledge stopped and nodded. Link hoped that was enough for the boy to stop blaming himself for the complete mess that was Link’s life. It had to be. _Goddesses, if anyone should be guilty, it should be me._ Why Fledge blamed himself for Link’s self-induced isolation, he did not know.

After they walked through village and started headed towards the woods once more, Link knew immediately which way Karane was going. The deep woods up to the north were far less welcoming in comparison to the woods where the Kikwi once resided. Monsters, older and taller trees, and steep cliffsides all contributed to the overall difficulty in navigating those woods. Link was surprised he managed well enough to wander into the correct destination.

_You had Fi to guide you the last time. Now the real test begins._

“Pipit was last seen here,” Karane said, wiping her eyes and pointing directly in the center of the woods. “Food has been scarce lately, so he headed straight in that direction hoping to find more deer.”

“We tried flying over to find him,” Gaepora explained. “But the tree covering was too thick. We sent out our best knights to find them. Most of them couldn’t find anything. A few were attacked by monsters and just barely managed to escape with their lives.”

Link nodded. “I’ll do my best to bring him home.”

Gaepora reached forwards and tried to place a hand on Link’s shoulder. Link responded by stepping away nervously.

“Ah,” Gaepora said as his attempt to reassure Link became very awkward. “Sorry Link. I just wanted to remind you that you don’t have to do this.”

Link nodded but remained silent. He knew he was the only one capable enough to do this. No one else knew the deep woods like he did.

“Don’t wait up for me,” he told them. “Don’t look for me if I don’t return.”

The last thing Link needed was for other people to die attempting to save him.

-

When Link entered the woods, he first followed the pathway he used to take to get to the Skyview Temple. Just a year ago, he had wandered through these woods, guided by Fi, without any idea what would happen next in his journey.

As Link traveled through the woods, he reminisced on how he had changed over the past year. Back then, he hadn’t taken his sword training seriously. He had gone through the motions, but he idolized the idea of becoming a knight of Skyloft more than anything. Sword training was difficult work that didn’t seem to have any payoff. He just had wanted to fly his loftwing around and save the occasional village-folk from accidentally dropping to their death.

Back then, all the things Fi had asked him to do hadn’t really settled into his brain. She spoke words like “destiny” and “trials,” but he ignored them, solely focused on just finding Zelda and getting back home. When he entered the woods, he avoided fighting bokoblins as much as he could, preferring to sneak around them. He was too ashamed to admit that he had not taken his sword training seriously enough. How was he supposed to know? How could he even prepare himself for the overwhelmingly momentous task set for him?

Halfway through his very first adventure into the deep woods, only hours after finding all the missing Kikwi for Bucha, Link had been ambushed. A lone bokoblin had snuck up on him, blowing loudly into his horn, before pulling out the blade from its hip belt. Link had panicked as soon as he saw the group. He swung out with his sword wildly, surrounded, and unable to escape. He thought he was going to die right then and there, so when he felt his blade sink into the neck of one of the bokoblins, and that black, oily substance splattered on his clothes for the first time, he vomited.

_“You were such a pathetic, naïve little sky-child back then.”_

Link banished those thoughts away and focused on the present moment. He spotted two bokoblins, in the exact place where he was first ambushed. He made his footsteps completely silent, sneaking up on them as they chattered away in their own language. Link quietly moved behind the monsters, getting close enough to touch them, before quickly stabbing the first bokoblin through the chest. He lifted his sword up, sword tearing through flesh, and spun around, using the momentum to power his next swing that cut off the head of the second bokoblin. The entire motion of his sword took less than 5 seconds to pull off and killed the two monsters instantly. Neither bokoblin had the opportunity to cry out for help before they died.

Link expertly stepped out of the way to avoid the splatter of monster blood on his clothes, only getting his sword wet this time. When the two bokoblin bodies collapsed, he calmly crouched down and wiped blood off his sword with the bokoblin’s ragged clothing. His adrenaline was up, but his heart felt steady. He flexed his sword arm, barely feeling the strain after slicing through flesh and bone. He gave a small smile as he looked over his blade. He had dedicated time and effort into keeping this blade sharp while he had stayed at the Lumpy Pumpkin the past few months. He was glad that the effort he put in hadn’t gone to waste.

Link moved forwards, deeper into the woods. He was hesitant to call out Pipit’s name. Shouting was more likely to draw out more monsters and he wanted to avoid doing so until he had a better idea of how many had sprung up while he was gone.

He followed the same trail that he remembered, going farther and farther into the woods until the trail stopped completely, the grass and shrubs becoming too tall and thick to reveal any path forwards.

Link became confused. He was going the exact same way he was last time. He distinctly remembered traveling underneath the roots of a giant tree and then reaching a cliffside, where he could use a vine to swing across to the other side.

Except the cliffside was no longer there. He swore it was right here. He batted the shrubs with his sword, stepping through the tall grasses, looking around. There was supposed to be a gap, and then the path was supposed to extend to the other side, but it looked like the gap had closed and the path had completely disappeared.

He turned around, checking to make sure he was still in the right place. He saw the underside of the tree. He walked back to the open area where he killed the bokoblins, their bodies still lied there.

_What the hell is going on?_

Link heard the sound of a twig snapping, the expel of air, and the flicker of something metal, before Link instinctively ducked. He heard a ‘thunk!’ and looked over to the nearest tree and saw a dart embedded in the wood.

He heard the sound of expelled air again and rolled out of the way, quickly pulling out his bow and an arrow, aiming around the trees for his attacker.

“Hee, hee, hee!” laughed a high-pitched voice, not at all human, but not the familiar call of any other monster Link had encountered.

Link let an arrow fly as soon as he spotted a pointed red hat up in a tree in the distance. To his disappointment, the arrow had embedded in the tree, otherwise empty.

He strained his ears for any sounds as he readied another arrow. He walked back to the end of the path, hesitant to move forwards into unchartered territory, but he knew now that he wouldn’t find Pipit in the familiar parts of the woods.

What had happened to the deep woods? It felt like entire area had drastically changed here. Did this happen because the Kikwi had disappeared?

Link hadn’t realized how welcoming the woods had been on his first adventure to the Skyview Temple. He started walking through the tall grass, where the pathway had ended, and it felt like everything became shrouded in a thick fog. The trees were taller here, yet closer together. Their roots extended throughout the makeshift pathway that Link had wandered through. He had to be extra careful with each step that he made in order to avoid tripping over the roots.

As he wandered through this completely new part of the deep woods, he thought back to his younger self. The naïve Link would have never survived anything like this. It took all of Link’s mental energy to stay alert, silent, and open to any sounds of an attack. Naïve Link would’ve stumbled through the woods, not listening, not aware of all the possibilities for an attack, with only Fi to guide him blindly from one place to another.

Link heard the sound of darts flying towards him again, but this time he spotted them as well. He angled himself so that two darts embedded right into the thick wooden arc of his bow and without hesitating released an arrow at the spot where he estimated that the darts had come from.

Link’s arrow soared true this time, as he heard the squeak of someone in pain. In the distance, Link saw a body fall from the trees, making a loud ‘thump’ as it landed on the ground only several feet away from him.

Link strapped his bow to his back and withdrew his sword at the ready as he cautiously walked towards the unknown monster that had shot at him with darts. As soon as Link got close enough, he was able to see the monster in full detail. It was small, shaped like a young child, yet their skin was wooden, not at all like human skin. The small monster was dressed in straw, tied by green and red rags. Their face was spherical, with a large yellow beak and glowing red eyes. Link’s arrow was embedded directly in its chest, but no blood had leaked out at all.

“Oh,” the small monster said from its position lying on the ground. It seemed completely surprised by Link. “You’re not human.”

Link blinked at it in confusion. He instinctively wanted to ask Fi what she made of this, but she wasn’t here. He was on his own to figure this out.

“What… who are you?” Link asked, pointing his sword at it threateningly.

“Get this out, please,” it pleaded, gesturing to the arrow. “I don’t like it.”

_What do you mean I’m not human?_

Link decided that he didn’t want that question to be answered. He reassured himself that it wasn’t important. “Have you seen a human enter these woods four or five days ago? He had brown hair and a yellow tunic.”

The small monster nodded. “The forest didn’t like him anymore.”

Link resisted the urge to get angry at the small monster’s complete lack of clear answers. “I’ll remove the arrow if you show me where he is.”

The small monster gave another nervous nod and Link sheathed his sword, kneeling down, and pulling the arrow out of the monster’s chest quickly. He stared at the gap, where his arrow landed. The skin looked completely unaffected despite the small hole in the monster’s rags for clothing.

“What did you mean by ‘the forest didn’t like him’?” Link asked curiously.

The small monster shrugged as it got to its feet. Small was an understatement. The monster had barely reached his waist. It reminded Link of the Skyloftian children that looked at him with awe. It ran off playfully like a child, not bothering to answer Link’s question.

Link was hesitant to follow the small monster. It hadn’t exactly proved its trustworthiness, but he didn’t have many other options in these woods. He followed the monster as it hopped over tall shrubs with ease. It giggled as it ran its hands through the grasses. It pulled out its blowpipe and tapped on nearby trees, seemingly enjoying the odd noises.

Then, in the distance, after Link had squeezed himself through more large bushes than he could count, he spotted someone slumped over next to a large tree. He saw the yellow tunic and brown hair and rushed past the small monster at the sight.

“Pipit!” Link shouted as he rushed towards the boy. “Pipit! Wake up!”

Pipit didn’t respond. Link felt his throat tighten as he kneeled down as saw the boy’s skin turned an ashen grey. His lips had turned purple. Link felt for a pulse on his neck and was immediately relieved when he felt the tiny thump of a pulse. It was so faint, but it was still there.

“This was fun!” the small monster said cheerfully. “Ask me to find something else!”

“What happened to him?” Link asked, getting increasingly worried when Pipit didn’t respond.

“The forest,” it answered just as vague and tugged on Link’s tunic. “Play with me!”

Link ignored the monster as he grabbed Pipit’s arms, turning around and hauling him forward. He pulled Pipit upwards and bowed at an angle so that Pipit could rest on his back. He grabbed the boy’s legs and stood up with Pipit in a piggyback position.

“I want you to find the exit to the woods,” Link commanded.

The small monster froze and then frowned. “There isn’t one.”

“There has to be one,” Link demanded. “No more games. I need to save my friend.”

The small monster paused again, looking unsure and sad. “Your friend isn’t going to survive.”

“He will,” Link said stubbornly. He couldn’t accept Pipit’s fate, not when the boy was still alive. “I need you to find the exit.”

The small monster shook its head. “No! I can’t!”

And then the small monster disappeared with a crack, bits of straw flying up as the only remaining evidence of his presence. Link tensed, lowering himself to a crouching position, ready to place Pipit back down on the ground and grab his sword if need be. He waited, but the small monster didn’t make any more sounds. It didn’t show up again, and Link was forced to stand back up and search for the trail that he had left behind.

Link followed what he hoped was his own tracks. He had no idea how Pipit got here, especially since the boy hadn’t left any tracks for him to follow either. He kept walking, searching for any signs of footprints, or any shapes of grass disturbed, or any familiar shrubs. Normally, Link was excellent at making his own mental map of a place. He would’ve never found his way out of any of the temples without a good sense of direction. However, the heavy fog, the identical trees and shrubs, and the tall grass made retracing his steps much more difficult.

After walking for what felt like hours, he was absolutely certain that even though he was walking in a straight line, he had passed by the same tree almost four times now. His arms were getting tired from holding Pipit up, and his back wasn’t in the most comfortable position either.

“Fascinating.”

Link nearly dropped Pipit as he recognized that voice. He crouched low, gently sliding Pipit off his shoulders and onto the ground before drawing his sword. In the distance, Ghirahim hopped down from a nearby tree and looked up and around the area with thoughtful amusement. He had blackened marks scattered across his chest and legs this time. A sign that the demon lord wasn’t at his best.

“Who knew the forest could hold a grudge,” Ghirahim said with a grin. “The people of the sky were very, very naughty.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Link said, raising his sword. “If you’re going to run away again, then just do it now.”

Ghirahim finally glanced at him with amusement. “If I left right now, I wonder how long you would last. How long before you’d stop wandering in circles and give up? How long before you realize you’re stuck here permanently? How long would it take you to kill yourself, Link?”

Link froze, gripping his sword tight.

“I was going to save you, you know,” Ghirahim went on, pointing a finger at him. “Don’t think I didn’t see you consider it. Peaking over the edge. You were going to jump, and I would’ve teleported you back.” Ghirahim let out a laugh. “And then I’d be the hero! Wouldn’t that be something?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Link stated firmly. “You’re delusional.” He wasn’t going to let Ghirahim get to him. He’d be damned if he’d ever admit that Ghirahim was right.

Ghirahim paused, looking over at Pipit. “The skull child was right. That boy won’t last the night. If you put him out of his misery with my sword, I’ll show you how to exit these woods.”

Link didn’t even bother to give a response. He charged at him, swinging his sword at Ghirahim. The demon lord recalled his own sword to block, only for Link to feint the attack, spin around and attack his unprotected side, slicing just barely an inch into his core.

Ghirahim stumbled back, looking nervous as he gave a snap and recalled a second sword. Link didn’t give him long to respond as he charged again. They got back into the rhythm of fighting, although this time it became much harder for Link, as he dodged attacks from Ghirahim’s second sword. He wished he had brought his shield.

However, Link didn’t relent. Ghirahim wasn’t running away completely. He’d teleport, often behind Link to avoid certain blows, but he remained in the same area in the woods, as if hoping that Link would finally concede.

They exchanged more blows, with Ghirahim relying heavily on blocking anything Link threw his way. Link found himself dodging and backflipping away from attack after attack. He ducked as Ghirahim swung his sword and hit a tree. The sword was embedded into the wood. Link took the opportunity to knock away the second sword far enough to break the demon lord’s guard. He quickly landed another upward slice towards Ghirahim’s core.

Ghirahim let out a yell of frustration as he teleported again away from Link. Link turned as he heard the demon lord stand farther away, looking conflicted. If there was anything Link could see in his eyes, it was fear. Link couldn’t help the small smile that formed on his face at the thought.

“If you kill me, Link,” Ghirahim growled. “You will be trapped here forever!”

Link had weighed out his chances. If wasn’t going to save Pipit, then at least he could take comfort in the fact that Ghirahim would never live to hurt anyone else in the world. He would wander the woods forever if it meant he had defeated this final blight upon the surface. Everyone else would be much safer that way.

He charged Ghirahim again, swinging his sword with speed and control, using the next of many tactics on hand to break the demon lord’s guard. At the hint of an opening, Ghirahim actually ducked one of Link’s attacks and aimed his one sword at Link’s lower body. While Link didn’t expect the move, he was quick to block the attack, only to realize his mistake.

Ghirahim swung the other sword down and Link followed his instincts. He grabbed at his empty scabbard in his right hand, pulling it forwards so that the metal piece slammed against Ghirahim’s second attack. They locked in place for a moment, both knowing that Link couldn’t hold his awkward position for long.

Link still had space to move back, however. He leapt back, spinning around to let up the momentum of Ghirahim’s attacks, and quickly unbuckled his scabbard before taking it in hand. It would work just as well enough as a shield.

Ghirahim had charged him this time, sensing that whatever advantage he had with his two weapons was now gone. Fighting with his scabbard felt surprisingly natural to Link. He was quick and energized at the thought as he defended himself from each of Ghirahim’s attacks. He could see that the demon lord’s moves were getting more desperate, just like when they had faced off just before Demise’s return. There were no time limits this time. No Zelda to be sacrificed.

Ghirahim went for an attack at Link’s left, who quickly anticipated the move. He blocked the sword attack, and then quickly slid his sword against Ghirahim’s sword, further and further towards his core. In one fell swoop, Link pushed forwards and made another deep cut against the demon lord’s weak point.

Ghirahim teleported again just as he was hit, but only moved a few feet away from Link before he crumpled to the ground, looking both shocked and terrified. The black markings extended now from his legs and chest up to his arms and face. Magic surrounding him crackled. Link hoped that Ghirahim was attempting to teleport away but couldn’t. He had a feeling that the demon lord’s magic was limited after all.

Link smiled as he walked up to the defeated monster.

_Finally. I can finally put this part of the past behind me._

Link raised his sword up for the final blow. Ghirahim looked up at him, too exhausted to defend himself, and then opened his mouth and changed everything.

“The boy,” Ghirahim said in a low voice. “I’ll show you the exit to the woods so that the boy will live.”

Link paused, the words hitting him like poison. He gripped his sword tightly. _No, it’s a trick. He’s lying. Just end it._

“I can’t trust you,” Link said with gritted teeth.

“Does that matter?” Ghirahim asked with a small knowing smile. “You spare my life and I’ll make sure that the boy survives. Are you going to turn down my offer and kill him? Because you might as well take up my first offer then and cut his throat right now.”

Ghirahim knew. He knew that Link wouldn’t dare turn a deal like that down. Link didn’t want Pipit to die. He saw a flash of Karane’s distraught face before his eyes. _You can’t make your revenge a priority. Not like this._

“If Pipit dies, you die,” Link warned him, still clutching his sword overhead, waiting for Ghirahim to suddenly laugh in his face and decide not to help him after all. Instead Ghirahim looked completely serious.

Link hesitantly lowered his sword and stepped far away from the demon lord, grinding his teeth as he realized what he had just agreed to. He nervously buckled his scabbard across his back as Ghirahim slowly struggled to rise up to standing.

Link walked over to where Pipit was still lying on the ground, motionless and pale. He checked his pulse once more, still faint yet still alive. He stared at his sword, uncertain of whether to place it in his scabbard or risk awkwardly holding it in one hand while holding Pipit up. He didn’t like either option. Both left him exposed to whatever attacks Ghirahim could decide to use against him.

“Hurry up,” Ghirahim demanded. “Time is of the essence for your fellow sky child.”

The nickname ‘sky-child’ immediately made Link sweaty and nauseous. “Shut up.”

Ghirahim flicked his hair out of the way. “If you were the master of my sword, I’d gladly obey that order.”

Link ignored him as he regretfully sheathed his sword and pulled Pipit over his back. He gritted his teeth and resigned himself to following Ghirahim through the woods. He hated it. He hated having to rely on the demon lord, but after wandering the woods with Pipit on his back for hours, he knew that both the skull child and Ghirahim were telling the truth when they said the exit was almost impossible to find.

Thankfully, Ghirahim didn’t talk while Link followed him through the woods. He looked more impatient than anything, glancing behind him as if nervous that Link would suddenly leave or drop Pipit to attack him. Link only sent him a glare in response as he tried to keep up without stumbling over the various roots and rocks on the nonexistent trail.

At some point, Ghirahim just stopped, and since Link wanted to maintain at least 5 feet of space away from the demon lord, he stopped in his tracks, confused as Ghirahim scrutinized over a tree.

“We don’t have time to waste,” Link reminded him. “Remember?”

“Of course,” Ghirahim dismissed him. “Don’t take me for an idiot. The woods are going to keep sending us in circles and it’ll take very powerful magic to break out of the forest’s circular paths. I think I finally found a gap.”

Ghirahim turned to him and then in a flash, conjured a small black blade and sent it flying at Link. Link flinched, raising up his hand in defense and nearly dropping Pipit out of his grip. The blade embedded itself in Link’s right forearm. Link let out a gasp in pain as the knife was ripped right back out of his arm and returned to Ghirahim’s hand.

Link stepped back, lowering Pipit to the ground again and quickly drew his sword. The blood started to seep through his sleeve. He deliberated whether he had time to wrap the wound as he prepared for Ghirahim’s next attack.

Ghirahim merely stood there, lifting the dagger and licked the blood from the blade with fervent pleasure. The crisscrossing black marks on his face started to fade away as he did so. The demon lord hummed, before glancing at Link with a sadistic smile.

“I missed the taste of your blood,” he said reverently. “Truly, Link, its more delicious than any drink on the Surface world. Probably better than anything in the sky as well.”

“You are repulsive,” Link hissed back. “What happened to our deal?”

“I’m fulfilling our promise, don’t you worry,” Ghirahim replied dismissively. “Our battle has eaten away at my magical reserves and without a master I need fresh blood to replenish myself.”

Ghirahim pressed his hand to the trunk of the tree and there was a crackle of magical energy resonating from his hand. He turned to Link, holding out his hand.

“Now go get your boy and take my hand,” Ghirahim ordered.

Link looked at him in distaste. There was no way he was going to willingly touch Ghirahim. He didn’t feel the least bit comfortable near the demon lord unless there was at least 3 feet of steel between them.

“Don’t dawdle now,” Ghirahim said impatiently. “Wandering these woods with you has been boring enough. Stop wasting time and grab your precious boy.”

Link didn’t remove his gaze from Ghirahim for a second as he crouched and pulled Pipit over his back.

“What are you going to do?” Link asked with suspicion.

Ghirahim rolled his eyes. “It takes a bit of a magical jump to get past the forest’s main paths. I’ll teleport us out of the barrier that keeps us here.”

“Do it from here,” Link replied testily. “You don’t need to touch things to get them to move for you.”

“Yes, small things,” Ghirahim explained, getting frustrated. “Or things that are explicitly connected to me, like my swords. You and your boy are not small. If you want to avoid holding my hand the whole way through, I’m going to need a whole lot more of that precious blood of yours.”

Link still didn’t move. There was no way in hell that he’d allow Ghirahim to drink more of his blood. There had to be another way. He just didn’t want to touch the demon lord at all. Why did all of this require physical contact?

Ghirahim glared at him, lifting up his hand in exasperation. “It’s getting dark. If you’re planning on letting the boy die, tell me now so I’m not wasting my time. All these little hang-ups of yours are ridiculous.”

“It’s not just a hang-up,” Link argued with as much vitriol as possible. “You completely and utterly disgust me.”

Ghirahim merely grinned. “So, you’ve chosen to kill the boy only because you hate me. Doesn’t sound so heroic now, does it? It’s so much fun to see you act so naughty.”

“Shut up!”

Link didn’t know which was worse; being physically forced against his will to be in contact with the evilest creature in existence or having to actively choose to come into physical contact with him. He willed the rising bile back down his throat as he stepped forwards and gripped Ghirahim’s offered hand.


	6. The Trap

In the next instant, he felt his body freeze in place, his hand burning at Ghirahim’s touch. His stomach dropped as he felt himself lift off the ground, and then suddenly the world beneath them was moving faster than Link had ever experienced. In a second’s worth of traveling what felt like several miles, his feet hit the ground again. The forest was suddenly less foggy, and the trees were spaced farther apart to make it feel less claustrophobic. Yet it was just barely noticeable as twilight had passed and the woods started to grow dark.

Ghirahim let go of his hand and winked. “You’re pointed west. Head straight as you are now, and you’ll be out of the woods. I’ve done my part so you better hurry and find a healer if you want the boy to survive.” The demon lord snapped his fingers and disappeared into a flurry of diamonds.

Link huffed as he moved forwards, adjusting Pipit on his back. He ignored the stabbing pain in his arm and rushed through the woods as quickly as he could without dropping the boy. He had no idea where Ghirahim had dropped him off to. For all he knew, the village of Skyloftians could be a full day of travel away, and Link desperately hoped he wasn’t carrying Pipit’s dead body back for Karane to mourn.

Link let out a breath of relief as he spotted a fire in the distance. _Please let them be friendly. Please let there be a healer._ He tripped over a branch and just barely caught himself from falling as the exhaustion of traveling through the woods finally hit him. Just a bit father. He just needed to get a bit closer and then Pipit would be in good hands. He just knew it.

“Help!” he called out desperately, hoping that he wouldn’t surprise the traveler or travelers into attacking. “Help! I need a healer!”

He stumbled forwards as he grew closer and closer to the fire. Three people appeared in front of the light in front of him. Shrouded in shadow, they all walked forwards to meet Link halfway.

Link got a good look at all three of them as the moonlight illuminated them fully. One man dressed in robes, one man dressed in blue clothes with light steel armor on his legs and arms, and one woman in a skin-tight blue jumpsuit. They all had red eyes and whitish-blonde hair. They carried the classic Sheikan insignia on their clothing.

Link froze, horrified as he realized that he had potentially found himself in a very dangerous situation. _Scratch that._ Ghirahim had pushed him into what could turn into a hostile situation. They all were rail thin but toned with muscle. After seeing both Dorian and a young Impa in battle, Link knew he couldn’t underestimate them.

“Please,” Link begged. “I just got my friend out of the woods. He’s sick and I don’t know what from.”

The woman nodded calmly. “You are incredibly lucky to make it out alive.”

“The forest sickness,” the man in the robes observed. “I believe I can help if he’s not far gone. Do you have the strength to carry him over by the fire?”

Link nodded. “Yes. Thank you,” he said gratefully.

Link followed the three of them over by the fire with a makeshift tent. The man in the robes pulled out a brown quilt from the tent and laid it out by the fire.

“Set him here,” he ordered Link, who obeyed, gently lowering down and placing Pipit on the blanket. “Xanthe, get my herbs and the mortar and pestle.”

Xanthe nodded as she pulled out several glass bottles all tied together by some rope and handed it to the man, along with a bowl made of stone and smooth shaped rock. The robed man got to work immediately as he ground up various herbs that he had taken from the jars.

Link watched nervously, remembering what Dorian had said. _There will be plenty more sent after me, many of them skilled warriors._ He could see it. All three of them were skilled warriors, just in the way they moved, in the way they carried themselves, in the way they glanced at Link’s sword with suspicion.

“What is your name, traveler?” asked the man in armor. He had settled on a log by the fire. A long spear wrapped in red cloth rested at his feet.

“Parrow,” Link answered without thinking. The real Parrow was probably miles away, back in the Skyloft village, taking care of loftwings in the makeshift stables. “My friend is Pipit.”

“Good to meet you, Parrow,” the armored man replied. “I am Lux. This is Xanthe,” he gestured to the woman, who smiled and offered him a flask and a piece of jerky.

“Sorry this is all we have at the moment,” Xanthe said with a slight frown.

Link took it gratefully as thirst and hunger began to finally settle in. “Thank you. This is more than I could ask for.”

“You are incredibly lucky to encounter our best magic user, Kyros,” Lux boasted. “He’s treated a few our own unfortunate enough to wander into the Lost Woods before.”

“Your blade, Parrow,” Xanthe said from over his shoulder as Link took a gulp of water. “May I see it?”

Link calmly finished drinking the water and screwed on the cap to the flask. He set aside his jerky and unbuckled his scabbard and rested it on his legs, unsheathing his sword for Xanthe to view. It was confirmation for both Link and the Sheikah. Link knew immediately that they were looking for the Master Sword but felt some slight reassurance that he could get by, knowing that the three of them wouldn’t identify him by his sword.

“I’m from Skyloft,” Link explained. “It is tradition for us to train our boys to become knights to protect our people from harm.”

“Just your boys?” Xanthe asked, amused. “How limiting.”

“Xanthe,” Lux chided her. “We’ve heard of your people. To be honest, we believed it only to be myth until recently. We hail from Kakariko Village to the north.” He stood up and pulled open a satchel near the tent. “How goes it, Kyros?”

“The herbs will take time,” Kyros replied. “Your friend has been sitting with the illness for a long time.”

Link nodded. “I only found him after he was in the woods for at least four days.”

“Leave some water and rabbit stock for him, Lux,” Kyros ordered. “How did you manage to find your way out of the woods unharmed?”

“Mostly unharmed,” Xanthe corrected as she spotted the wound on Link’s forearm. “Here’s some bandages.”

“Thank you,” Link replied gratefully. “I really appreciate all your help.”

There was a pause as Kyros looked at him expectantly.

“I’m not sure how I escaped,” Link answered vaguely. “I got really lucky.”

The three of them were being incredibly helpful, though their questions made him worried. He hoped his answer was enough for Kyros. Xanthe merely nodded and set the bandages next to him and yet didn’t offer to help him, both to Link’s surprise and relief.

Growing up, Link wasn’t fully aware of how much the residents of Skyloft physically touched each other, in greeting, expressing friendship, or in their general need to be caretaking to each other. A much younger Link was very much normalized to people touching his arms, hugging him, patting his shoulder or his head.

After Ghirahim, all physical contact had changed for him. All those acts of comfort were just reminders of what he used to enjoy, and now couldn’t. In contrast, Link watched as Lux, Kyros, and Xanthe remained friendly to him and to each other, yet they also maintained a considerable amount of space amongst themselves.

Link couldn’t help but think that in another world or another life, he could appreciate the Sheikan culture and their people. He greatly admired Impa’s strength and dedication to protecting Zelda. Despite their disagreements on death and honor, Dorian had appeared otherwise very reasonable. Yet suddenly this prophecy forced these people to be enemies with him. It was the last thing Link wanted.

Link believed that Destiny had completely changed his life, and definitely not for the better. Despite this, ever since he took up the Master Sword, he didn’t let himself wish to change it. Demise had to be stopped no matter what. He would much rather do everything over again than put someone else in his place.

But with this new prophecy, it felt like Destiny was actively working against him.

Kyros didn’t ask any more questions, and Link was free to eat his jerky and bandage up his arm without distraction. They said their respective goodnights as they all settled down to sleep. Lux offered him a blanket to sleep, but Link refused. They had given him more than enough, whether it was food or kindness that he would’ve never received if they actually knew who he was.

Link felt guilty as he watched them settle to sleep. Before Link went to find a place on the ground comfortable enough, he walked over to a sleeping Pipit. His skin was still pale, but not ghostly or inhuman.

_For Pipit. I’ll stop using them as soon as he’s safe and healthy._

Link laid down by the dying fire and sleep finally overtook him.

-

The second time Link had encountered Ghirahim in his life, he barely managed to keep himself composed. The demon lord stood over the rock formation of a dragon, screaming and stomping around, yelling something about a goddess-serving dog and that Zelda had escaped. Link couldn’t hear any of it. He had been in a full-on flashback, reliving the experience of being held down and choked, his pants torn and pulled down, fully exposed below the waist before a black dagger was held to his inner thigh.

His flashback only broke once he heard the earth-shattering sound of a giant boulder brought to life by magic. Link wondered if it said something about him that fighting a giant monster made entirely of lava and rock was more of a relief than fighting the spellcaster that brought it to life.

After defeating Scaldera, he had Fi repeat Ghirahim’s words verbatim during a sleepless night on the top of the Eldin Volcano. He was silently grateful that the demon lord seemed so distracted that he hadn’t even noticed Link’s reaction at the time.

Link had dreaded the day that Ghirahim no longer grew distracted by other events and people that interrupted his plans. He knew that at some point in the future, he would once again be the sole target of focus for the demon lord.

“Link!”

“Link! Wake up!”

Link jolted out of his sleep, hand at his sword just as his eyes snapped open to view the open sky. It was still dark out with only a faint bit of light touching the eastern horizon. Link looked over at the voice calling his name and panicked.

“I’m sorry, Link, the last thing I remembered was getting lost in the woods and then blacking out,” Pipit explained, not realizing the fatal mistake he had made. “What happened? Where are we?”

Link rolled over and took a look at the damage Pipit had done. The three Sheikah had all woken up. Lux already had his hand on his spear. Xanthe looked shocked as she wiped the sleep from her eyes. Kyros slowly sat up, glaring at Link.

Link looked over at Pipit. “You nearly died, Pipit. I was sent in to save you.”

“Link, is it?” Xanthe interrupted. “What else did you lie about?”

“Nothing else,” Link replied quickly as he got up to stand. “I needed to make sure that Pipit survived. That was the only reason I lied to you.”

“Link is the name of the chosen hero,” Kyros stated aloud. “Hylia said so herself.”

“He doesn’t have the Master Sword,” Xanthe brought up.

“That just means he knows to hide from us,” Lux growled.

Kyros stood up in a ready position. Xanthe drew two small daggers from her belt. Lux pointed his spear at Link, who had his hand inching towards his sword. The three of them looked too angry to answer any of Link’s questions.

“Is Dorian dead?” Xanthe asked instead in a somber voice. “You must have encountered him first if you know why we’re here.”

Link nodded. “He is. I didn’t want to fight him or kill him, but he didn’t allow for any other option.”

Lux huffed in response. “Dorian wouldn’t dare return to our village in shame after vowing his life and honor to protect it.”

Pipit finally spoke up, completely confused by the sudden stand-off. “What the hell is going on?”

“Pipit,” Link said, eyes never leaving the three Sheikah warriors as he slowly drew his sword. “I need you to leave here and head south back to our village. Don’t wait up for me. Don’t turn back for an instant.

“Lux, Xanthe, Kyros. Your business is with me and only me. I don’t know the full details of the prophecy you’ve been told, but I know that Pipit has nothing to do with it. As warriors with honor, please promise me you’ll leave him unharmed.”

The three of them reluctantly nodded.

“Link,” Pipit said aghast. “I-”

Link didn’t let him finish his sentence. “Go Pipit! _Now!_ ”

The force of Link’s command sent Pipit stumbling backwards and the boy quickly turned and ran. It was all the time Link got before Xanthe immediately threw one of her daggers at him. After batting away so many of Ghirahim’s magical knives, knocking away her dagger became second nature to him. He didn’t have much time to respond as Lux then charged at him, swinging his spear downwards. Link stepped to the side just quick enough to avoid the blade by a hair.

He turned to face Lux, who was closest to him, before rolling next to the armored warrior’s side to avoid the fruits of his first mistake. Fighting three warriors would be difficult. He needed to keep Lux in the way of Xanthe and Kyros, which severely limited his movement.

Link did so, gritting his teeth as he blocked each of Lux’s attacks. He was forced to constantly keep an eye on Xanthe in the background as she withdrew shuriken and kunai blades. She threw one every time Lux stepped out of her way.

Link was able to knock away each small throwing blade with ease. Lux worried him more, with the range on his spear and the strength behind it made him a formidable foe. Both the strength behind Lux’s attacks and the constant need to keep an eye on Xanthe left him feeling breathless.

It was only the sudden crackle of energy and whispered murmurs that left Link realizing that he had forgotten about Kyros, who had quickly snuck behind him and cast out a spell, hurdling his way. He just barely avoided it by rolling to the side, a small shockwave of magic hit his thigh and caused his balance to waver just as he stood up.

Xanthe sent another shuriken flying at him, but Link knew to block them right away before being forced to dodge Lux’s spear attacks once more.

“Where’s that lovely spell you’ve mastered, Kyros?” Xanthe yelled at the magic-user.

“It takes a bit of time,” Kyros snapped back.

Link knew whatever spell Kyros had prepared, it couldn’t be good. Lux was getting desperate and did a full thrust to Link’s chest. Link twisted to the side and grabbed the spear before chopping through the wooden handle. He quickly threw the spear half at Xanthe, who just barely avoided the attack by leaping out of the way.

Lux tried to swing the wooden pole at Link, who ducked, turned, let out a shout before pulling off a spin attack, sword grazing against the armor on his shoulders before making a deep cut against Lux’s chest. The Sheikah stumbled back, clutching his bleeding chest.

“Kyros!” Xanthe called out.

Link turned again to Kyros, who’s hands were placed in a prayer position, glowing. His face fully focused on the light forming from his hands. Link rushed towards him, ducking to avoid Xanthe’s last kunai before swinging towards his target.

“Enuptivos!” Kyros shouted just before he raised his arms to defend himself from Link’s attack. Blood from the magic-user’s arms splattered across the ground. That was the last clear action Link could see before he felt like he was suddenly submerged in water.

The vision blurring, limb-slowing, buoyant feeling was the closest to what he could describe what the spell felt like. His limbs then suddenly felt like they weighed hundreds of pounds. His eyes drooped as he nearly stumbled to the ground. He turned just in time to see the blurred vision of Xanthe’s face before his stomach exploded with pain.

Without realizing how he got there, Link was suddenly lying on the ground. He could only recognize bits and pieces of the present moment while his head felt like it was spinning. There was a dagger in his gut, still held by Xanthe. She leaned over him with a stern look.

“Let go, Link,” Xanthe said grimly. “Your time has ended. We are all grateful for what you’ve done to protect this land, but now we must do what has to be done to protect our people.”

Link understood the sentiment more than anyone. There was a part of him that wanted to accept that he was dying. He would finally rest, free from everything that haunted him. A vision of Zelda flashed before his eyes. He hoped that she was okay.

And yet another part of his brain was still screaming, still kicking, still panicking, desperate to live. That part of him forced him to focus on his left hand, which still gripped his sword tightly. His sword remained an ever-present reminder of his mistakes and what he vowed to change. He swung forwards with a yell, metal cutting and cleaving into her face. Xanthe cried out in agony.

“Lux, no!” someone screamed.

That was the last thing Link heard before he blacked out.


	7. Confession

The third time Link encountered Ghirahim, his adrenaline was racing, heart pounding, slamming his sword against the magical barrier that the demon lord had created. He didn’t want to think of how similar their situations were. As Ghirahim attacked Impa’s protective barrier, Link desperately tried to batter down the demon lord’s. He was so focused on stopping Ghirahim, that he nearly missed it when Zelda cast a spell to send her harp to him.

Once he granted Impa and Zelda enough time to escape, he didn’t dare consider the possible consequences of leaving himself to fight his own rapist face to face again.

He supposed it didn’t matter. He was getting more and more used to the idea of sacrificing himself. Zelda had to escape. He couldn’t allow her to be captured by something as monstrous as Ghirahim. Impa was right in calling him a failure and so he chose what made sense in the long term. He resigned himself to believing that the best he could do was spare as much time as possible to distract the demon lord. Whether it was by cold steel or a warm body, it didn’t matter.

But then Ghirahim only made a series of angry threats at him and teleported away.

He felt relief that Ghirahim didn’t stay and attempt to fight him, but also felt dread knowing that the demon lord was still on the hunt. He was far more terrified of what Ghirahim would do to Zelda than what the demon lord would do to him.

-

When Link woke up from blacking out, his stomach was still in pain, yet he could feel the familiar burn of a red potion, healing up the wound. There were fingers pressed against his temples, pushing down urgently, waking him up from the magical slumber that Kyros had induced.

His eyes snapped open, getting a full visual of Ghirahim’s look of concentration. The black markings on his skin had disappeared, leaving his pure white skin unblemished. The scene was far too familiar to him.

_“Stop! Please! Let me go!” Link shouted as he desperately pushed and scratched at Ghirahim’s chest._

_The demon lord just laughed as he put his full weight on Link’s stomach, looming forwards with excitement as he clutched Link’s neck in his grip. Ghirahim slowly put more pressure on Link’s neck, watching him with morbid curiosity as he struggled for air. With a snap of his fingers, Link’s wrists were enclosed in dark magical energy that forced his arms to slam down on the ground above his head._

Link broke out of the flashback and let out a scream, this time, sending a punch right across Ghirahim’s jaw as he desperately reached out for his sword with his left. His sword had been moved out of the way. His fingers bumped against an empty bottle and then found one of Xanthe’s kunai within reach. The punch barely affected the demon lord, but it was distraction enough for Link to grab the weapon. He quickly drove it directly into Ghirahim’s core.

Ghirahim grunted in pain, looking furious. He grabbed the wrist that held the kunai and slammed it to the ground. With the other hand he grabbed Link’s cap and a sizeable chunk of hair and yanked him so that his head twisted to the side, face planted into the dirt.

“I’m trying to help you undo the sleeping spell, and this is the thanks I get!” Ghirahim hissed.

“You’re not helping!” Link gasped back, nearly swallowing dirt in the process. “Get off of me!”

To Link’s surprise, Ghirahim did stand up, but only to stomp on Link’s wrist before he could escape.

“Let go of the weapon, Link,” Ghirahim commanded him. “A tiny little kunai isn’t going to kill me so don’t even bother.”

Link clutched the kunai for dear life. It was the only thing he had. Ghirahim let out a loud sigh in frustration.

“This is getting pathetic,” Ghirahim shouted, spitting with rage. “I don’t know why you refuse my offer every single time when something like this could easily happen. It’s like you have no self-preservation! You owe me your life twice now and all I ask in return is for you to _just give me this_!”

The kunai was ripped from Link’s fingers and then he was lifted by his collar, tunic pressed against his neck as he was lifted to his knees before Ghirahim roughly dragged him in front of Kyros. The magic user was gagged, with his ankles and wrists bound by familiar dark magical bindings.

The black sword clattered to the ground in front of him. Kyros could only stare at Link with wide eyes filled with horror.

“Kill him,” Ghirahim commanded impatiently.

Link stared at the twisted, dark imitation of the Master Sword. Besides the color, the two swords looked almost identical. He didn’t move an inch, trying to regain awareness of his surroundings, immediately thinking about how he could escape the situation at hand.

Ghirahim was getting impatient, and proceeded to kick him in the stomach, right where he was recently stabbed. More pain shot through his body, blurring his vision, and all the air left his lungs. Link let out a wheezing gasp.

“No time for your petty morals!” Ghirahim shouted. “It’s life or death, Link! You’ve done this hundreds of times before. Just take the sword and kill him!”

Link heard a loud, resounding clang! It was a familiar sound that he recognized whenever his sword had rebound against Ghirahim’s tough skin. He looked up to see Pipit, holding his sword. The boy was immediately shocked that the weapon did next to nothing to damage the demon lord.

“No!” Link shouted breathlessly, but he couldn’t do much else before Ghirahim acted. “Pipit, run!”

Before Pipit could do anything, the demon lord easily batted the sword out of his hands and grabbed him by the throat, lifting him off the ground. Link’s worst fears came true the moment the Ghirahim proceeded to choke Pipit with a grin.

“I suppose a little worm like you could be useful once more,” Ghirahim murmured with amusement to a horrified Pipit. He turned to Link with a grin. “One life for another, Link. Spare the Sheikah who would rather see you die, or your precious sky-child that you promised to save. What will it be?”

Link’s mouth went dry. He wanted to plead for Pipit’s life. He wanted to reason with the demon lord. But he knew that nothing he could say would ever change Ghirahim’s mind. With a shudder he grabbed the dark blade.

“You’ll let him go unharmed, if I do this,” Link asked, voice wavering as he slowly stood up.

Ghirahim lowered Pipit to the ground but didn’t let go of his neck. Pipit tried squirming out of the demon lord’s grip but all attempts to escape failed. Ghirahim didn’t spare a glance at Pipit, even while the boy tried swinging and kicking and never having an effect on the demon lord.

“That’s all I want,” Ghirahim answered. “You get your wish. I get mine.”

Link looked over at Kyros. The Sheikah’s arms were still bleeding through his sleeves. There were two bodies next to him, covered entirely in blood. Bile rose up to Link’s throat as he realized that Ghirahim had killed Xanthe and Lux.

Kyros’s hands were bound at his front. His mouth was gagged with the red strip of cloth that had been wrapped around Lux’s blade. Kyros looked up at him with determined eyes. He gestured to his mouth, and then pressed his hands together in prayer.

Link didn’t react, even though he believed he understood Kyros’s message. He kneeled down, pressing the point of the blade to the Sheikah’s heart. He gave a quick glance at Ghirahim, who looked positively gleeful at the sight of Link holding his blade.

Within a split second, Link grabbed the red cloth gagging Kyros and yanked as he lifted the sword to cut through the cloth. The blade made a shallow slice through Kyros’s cheek, and suddenly Link felt the sudden presence of Ghirahim in his mind. Living, breathing, his very core, his emotions connecting with his. Desperation, frustration, impatience, desire, all at once.

“Keranos!” Kyros shouted, and black magic shot from his hands, aimed at Ghirahim.

The demon lord teleported, leaving Pipit to take the magic attack. The dark blade disappeared from Link’s hand, along with the bonds that held Kyros’s arms and legs together.

Pipit let out a scream as the magic surged through his body, collapsing to the ground.

“Pipit!” Link gasped as he rushed towards the boy, only stopping to pick up his own discarded sword.

Pipit gasped with pain as Link rushed to him, not knowing what kind of spell Kyros used.

“He’ll be alright,” Kyros gasped as he rolled onto his hands and knees, too exhausted to stand up. “The spell isn’t meant for humans.”

Link watched as Pipit got his breathing under control. “Goddess Hylia, that hurt,” the boy gasped.

Link was relieved that Pipit was alright, but proceeded to stand up, looking around for any movement. Ghirahim could show up again at any time. He kept searching wildly around for the demon lord. His vision was still a bit blurry. He felt like the world was spinning too fast around him. He swallowed down the urge to vomit.

“Link,” Pipit said, voice cracking, grabbing the end of his tunic. “I think he’s gone.”

“You don’t,” Link replied, shaking, desperation in his voice. “You don’t know him like I do. He won’t give up. He won’t leave me alone.”

_I’m so sorry you had to see this, Pipit._

Link lowered his sword once it seemed like Ghirahim wasn’t going to appear again. He stood there; mind barely able to process everything that had just happened. He looked over at Kyros, who had quickly healed the wounds on his arms before looking sadly at the bloodied bodies of Lux and Xanthe.

“Kyros,” Link began. “I’m so sor-”

“Go away, Link,” Kyros cut him off with disgust. “It’s clear that whoever gets close to you will always be in terrible danger, and I need to bury my friends in peace.”

Link nodded, still feeling sick. He looked over at Pipit, who looked a mixture of both horrified and sorrowful. He reminded himself where he needed to go next. Pipit needed to get home. He needed to see Impa. He needed to make sure Zelda was alright. _Zelda._ He missed her so damn much it hurt.

“C’mon Pipit,” Link mumbled. “I promised Karane I would bring you back to the village.”

Pipit nodded silently and stood up, legs shaking. The two of them left Kyros alone to mourn his friends.

Link didn’t want to look at Pipit. He didn’t want to get angry or blame him for trying to come back and save him. He knew the boy had good intentions. Unfortunately, people with good intentions always suffered whenever Ghirahim was around.

He listened carefully for Pipit’s footsteps instead. He waited close by, careful not to walk too fast as Pipit recovered from the spell that was cast on him. They walked through empty grasslands south towards the village while the sun beamed down on them. The woods in the distance east was the only landmark to keep them going in the right direction.

“Who was that, Link?” Pipit finally broke the silence. “That monster who tried to get you to-”

“Don’t!” Link interjected quickly. “Don’t ask. I really don’t want to talk about it.”

The less Link talked about Ghirahim, the less distress he had to feel from the constant reminder of the demon lord’s presence. He didn’t want to be reminded. He just wanted some semblance of peace for one moment. _Just give me that, Pipit, please._

Pipit took the hint and remained silent.

Nearly an hour had passed from the two of them walking. Link followed as the woods started to extend closer to the south. He saw the peak of a house in the distance when Pipit finally collapsed.

“Pipit!” Link turned around, rushing towards him.

“Heh,” Pipit said tiredly. “I’m trying, Link. I swear. My body just feels…”

“It’s alright,” Link replied. “You went without food or water for at least 4 days. Here,” he sheathed his sword and placed the boy’s arms around his shoulders once more, pulling Pipit back up into a piggyback. “We’re almost there.”

“Did you carry me like this before?” Pipit asked tiredly.

“Yes, in the woods,” Link replied, getting nervous at the thought of Pipit being conscious of everything that had happened back then. “Do you remember that?”

“No,” Pipit mumbled. “Just getting serious Deja-vu.”

Link kept moving with Pipit on his back. The trip was slightly easier than outright carrying the boy unconscious, as Pipit actively tried to help hold himself over Link’s shoulders as best he could. The sun shone down on the two, hitting midafternoon when they finally saw the village houses in the distance.

Link kept walking towards the village as more and more people spotted him and Pipit’s return. He heard the shout of someone saying, “Someone get Karane!” Pipit remained quiet while this all occurred.

Owlan and a few knights were the first to greet Link and Pipit.

“Gaepora told me what happened,” Owlan said with a bow. “I thank you.” He gestured to the other man. “Let’s ease Link from his burden.”

Link let out a small sigh of relief as the men gently helped Pipit off his back, holding him up by his shoulders.

“Pipit!” Karane shouted. She raced over to him, embracing in a tight hug. “Oh, thank Hylia! We all thought you died!”

“I came close,” Pipit replied. “I’m alright now thanks to Link.”

Link felt that Pipit’s gratitude was undeserving. He had carried Pipit right into his own mess. He was more grateful than anything that the task was complete, and he could no longer put people in danger.

“Thank you, Link!” Karane said, as she turned to him. “We owe you so much! You do so much good for us. Are you staying for the night? Pumm has been teaching me his pumpkin soup recipe. I’d like to thank you.”

Link frowned and gave a glance at Pipit, who looked worried by Karane’s offer.

“Whatever you decide,” Owlan added. “The woods must have been arduous. We can provide shelter for you to rest.”

“I’m sorry,” Link replied. “I wish I could, but I can’t stay. There are things I need to do.”

“So soon?” Karane asked, disappointed.

“Karane,” Pipit chided her, placing his hand on her shoulder. The couple looked at each other for a moment, with Pipit looking dead serious. Link couldn’t blame him.

“Just avoid the woods from now on,” Link warned them. “I was really lucky to bring Pipit back. I don’t believe I could survive another trip like that again. The woods have become more far more dangerous than we could’ve ever imaged.”

Owlan nodded. “I will bring this up with our council. We’ll need to change our hunting locations.”

Link nodded and said his goodbyes to them and then settled on walking around the outer area of the village. He didn’t want to bring any more attention to himself.

After passing by the village, Link traveled through fields of sparse trees and empty stumps. He passed by Gorko, Eagus, and a few others as they hauled more logs towards the town. Gorko gave him a wave, to which Link responded politely with a wave back, but avoided talking to them otherwise.

_“The forest didn’t like him.”_

_“Who knew the forest could hold a grudge.”_

Link’s trip through the deep woods was something he never encountered before. The idea of being trapped there forever started to finally sink in his mind. He just knew that the indiscriminate cutting off trees must have caused this. He could only feel helpless at the thought that no one could never wander safely in the woods again.

It was the twilight after sunset when he entered the Sealed Grounds. The feeling of returning was almost overwhelming. The last time he was here, Zelda had been kidnapped by Ghirahim. He was racing against the clock to save her. Demise was about to be summoned. He had prepared himself to be ready to fight an army. Considering how many monsters Ghirahim had summoned to stop him, he practically did. It was hard to imagine that all of that had occurred 6 months ago.

He walked down the staircase that separated what was left of the woods from the Sealed Grounds. Pushing through the door, he saw the dim starlight from the crack in the ceiling illuminating the wizened features of Impa as she calmly and carefully tended to a small fire.

Impa turned to see him. “Ah, Link. I have been expecting you.”

Link nodded, her response telling him exactly what he needed to know. “Hello Impa.”

“Come,” Impa gestured. “Sit by the fire. I’ll have dinner cooking very soon. It will be nice to dine with someone again.”

Link obeyed, walking up the stairwell and noticing the dead rabbit she had set aside by the fire. “Do you need help?”

Impa shook her head. “These old bones still have strength in them. Besides, you look like you’ve been on quite an adventure again.”

“Something like that,” Link replied vaguely.

Link did help tend to the fire while Impa expertly cut out meat portions from the rabbit. She placed them in a pot with some liquid and rice and settled it over the fire.

“My old friend’s great grandson came to visit me not too long ago,” Impa began. “I believe his name was Dorian.”

Link paused as he stared at the fire with a sad look.

“He told me why he had come to visit,” Impa explained. “I suppose that since I am seeing you here that he must be dead.”

“I didn’t want to kill him,” Link replied somberly. “I’m sorry, Impa, I really tried-”

“It’s okay, Link,” Impa interrupted him, raising up her hands. “I know. I tried to convince Dorian not to seek you out, but he was so very determined to save his village. He was ready to give up his life for that cause.”

“What do you know about this prophecy?” Link asked.

Impa hesitated to answer at first. She checked on the stew before replying.

“I’m one of the Sheikah’s designated seers. It’s why I was assigned here to the Sealed Grounds. I’ve seen what the others have seen.”

“And?”

“I saw you, or some version of you, twisted and dark, carrying what appears to be the Master Sword, also tainted by darkness. You set fire to my childhood village and massacre all the people within it.”

Impa said the words as clinically as she could, but Link could tell by the way she described the scene that it had an effect on her. She placed her hand on her forehead, as if trying to shake away the sight.

Link looked to the fire once more, sensing her discomfort. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want any of that to happen, but how do you prevent yourself from avoiding that kind of future?

“I don’t think it’s the Master Sword,” Link explained as he remembered the sword Ghirahim nearly shoved in his face twice now. “Ghirahim, he-he’s been… He showed me a sword that looked like the Master Sword, but it wasn’t.”

“He’s been stalking you,” Impa completed his unfinished sentence. She checked the stew again before removing it from the fire. She started to scoop the steaming stew into two wooden bowls.

Link nodded and placed his head in his hands. “I’ve tried to kill him, over and over again, but he keeps running away and coming back. I can’t keep him away. I can’t pin him down long enough to defeat him. I can’t-”

“Here, Link,” Impa interrupted him, nudging his head with a bowl full of stew. “Eat.”

Link suddenly realized that he had started crying. After everything that had happened, he felt so overwhelmed. He quickly wiped his eyes and looked up just to grab the bowl and spoon, avoiding Impa’s gaze.

The stew was hot and hearty. He had survived the last two days just on the jerky that Kyros, Lux, and Xanthe were kind enough to give him. He tried not to be rude and forced himself to eat slowly despite hunger pushing him to completely devour the soup in seconds.

“Zelda had a theory,” Impa began again after eating a spoonful of stew. “That magic, when not used correctly had an insidious side effect. We tested this out for ourselves. Zelda chose to cast a spell while skipping the major components she had been taught while casting. It’s common spell work among the Sheikah and makes casting much quicker. As soon as she cast the spell, a bokoblin that Groose had distracted was immediately drawn back to Zelda’s location, without any other reason to seek her out.”

Link thought of the furnixes that attacked Groose and Cawlin and suddenly their presence made sense. Dorian had casted so much magic during their fight so quickly. In contrast, Zelda always believed that magic took a lot more time and caution to use.

“My ancestors once posited that it was no coincidence that Demise had come into existence almost immediately after the formation of the Triforce. They did not know how, but we can only guess that it had something to do with the sacred force.”

Link looked at her in confusion. “But the Triforce was created by the Goddesses.”

Impa shrugged. “That’s what many of our texts say, but we do not have any accurate records of that specific time. The Triforce has always appeared to have existed, and so has Demise. But when you consider it, the Triforce has very little use to the Goddesses, yet it has many uses to men who are corrupted, or even simply tempted by power.”

Link couldn’t deny Impa’s theory. When he had assembled and wished upon the holy emblem, at first, he was afraid that he had accidentally wished for the end of Ghirahim rather than Demise. Looking back, he worried that his distracted mind had caused the loophole that allowed for Demise to return. He had no idea how the Triforce had worked. He wasn’t even sure whether it would grant all of his wishes or deem him unworthy. That much unstable magic energy formed into one object felt far too dangerous and uncontrollable.

“We can confirm in our texts that the Goddess Sword, now known as the Master Sword, was actually formed by men under Hylia’s guidance,” Impa explained. “These men were not as powerful as she but were just as motivated to create a weapon specifically for defeating Demise. There are some reports that after the Goddess Sword was created, the men who forged the sword were haunted by a demon carrying a facsimile of that same sword.”

Link looked up at Impa, realizing what she was implying. “Ghirahim is…”

“A reflection of the same sword you owned,” Impa finished. “It only makes sense that he would seek you out, just like the bokoblin that sought out Zelda’s magic.”

Link nodded. “How do I stop him?”

Impa sighed and smiled. “You know, Zelda asked me that same question just before she left for Kakariko Village.”

Link gave her a confused look. “I was told that Zelda left to help with the monster raids at the Sheikan Village.” That sentence sounded strange saying it out loud. He knew Zelda wasn’t a fighter. If it wasn’t for this damn prophecy, Link would’ve raced across the world to make sure she was okay.

“That was part of the agreement,” Impa explained. “She agreed to help by presenting her theory to the current leader of my village. This would grant her access to the ancient texts that my ancestors have collected over the years. My village may still have the great library carrying knowledge of almost every form of magic studied in existence. She was very determined to find a spell that would seal Ghirahim away for good.”

Link stared at his stew and bit his lip. Of course, Zelda would seek that knowledge out. He didn’t know whether to be annoyed or touched by his best friend’s dedication. _Of course, she had left to try to save him._

The question was, what did he do now? Should he tempt fate and seek Zelda out? Should he wait for her to come back? How long could he wait like this? It felt like Ghirahim would show up at any minute and he had no way to stop him. He knew he was getting tired. He couldn’t keep going on with the demon lord haunting him like a shadow forever.

“Link,” Impa said, breaking him away from his thoughts. “I didn’t get the chance to say this before. I apologize for doubting you at the Eldin Spring. I was terrified at what would happen if Ghirahim had captured Zelda and directed my anger onto you while you shouldered a much greater burden than us.”

Link shivered, remembering when a young Impa voiced all his fears aloud, deeming him unworthy of protecting Zelda.

“Don’t be. You were right,” Link explained. “I was…” _Naïve. Young. Stupid. Not ready for any of this._ “I was weak.”

Impa looked at him sadly. “I have no doubt that even back then, you were the strongest man I’ve ever met. Even after all those years, you still impress me in a way that no one else has.”

It couldn’t be true. Link gripped his bowl, knowing that she had to be wrong. He couldn’t deny her words either. He wished she hadn’t mentioned it. He didn’t know how to handle that kind of compliment.

He finished up his stew. Impa insisted that he have seconds, and Link found himself worrying that it would be rude to not finish what was offered to him. He ended up eating enough to hurt his stomach.

For a woman who was hundreds of years old, Impa had a routine that she followed with ease. She cleaned the bowls, put out the fire with dirt, and settled into a comfortable cross-legged position to rest for the night.

“Link, you are welcome to stay here for as long as you wish,” Impa reassured him.

Link shook his head as the image of Ghirahim pointing a sword at the old woman flashed before his eyes. “I’ll put you in danger.”

“Peh, because of Ghirahim?” Impa asked amusedly. “Demise is gone. My destiny is complete. I’m merely going through the motions, if only to assist you, Zelda, and Groose. If Ghirahim decides my life should end, then so be it. It would be an honorable death against the forces of darkness.”

Link hugged his knees together, not entirely convinced by Impa’s words. The idea of an ‘honorable death’ has come up more and more often lately. Link couldn’t imagine the words ‘honor’ and ‘death’ even fitting together in a sentence before he met Dorian. However, he did take up Impa’s invitation despite his reservations. As Impa settled into what appeared to be sleep, he leaned against a nearby wall, the cold stone comforting against his back. That was the only comfort he received as his mind raced, unable to sleep.

What was he doing? He should just leave. He should just fly out to the Lanayru Desert and stay there, where only Ghirahim could threaten him and no one else.

Yet when Link really thought about it, being entirely alone with only Ghirahim as company was terrifying. He wondered how quickly he might lose his mind, having only the demon lord for conversation. No other human interaction. No one else with the semblance of warmth or empathy. The first time Link wandered the Lanayru Desert, the ancient robots did next to nothing to ease his loneliness. The only reason he knew he survived through it back then was because he knew that he was going to return to human civilization eventually. With Ghirahim still alive and well, his own torment felt endless.

Link tried to banish those thoughts as best he could. He closed his eyes, willing for sleep to overtake him.

-

When Link entered the penultimate room in the Fire Sanctuary, he began to fill with dread. Not just because Ghirahim was there, but because they were in an empty room. Ghirahim didn’t appear distracted or impatient. He looked ready to fight face to face and that was far more terrifying to Link than anything the demon lord could summon or bring to life.

If Link didn’t have Fi with him, he didn’t think he would’ve survived.

“You and I, we’re bound by a thread of fate,” Ghirahim said with reverence in the background.

“Focus on your breathing, Master,” Fi murmured into his ear. “We’ve studied and practiced everything Ghirahim has used against us so far. We know those tactics will no longer work.”

Link didn’t bother to listen to what Ghirahim was saying. He kept his eyes on him warily, ready for him to teleport at any time. He focused on what Fi was telling him, calming his otherwise racing heart. He had trained for this, over and over again, but it was hard to focus when confronted by the real monster once more.

When Ghirahim teleported behind him, he was surprised by how quickly he responded when he swung his sword back. He was afraid he was going to freeze up again, leaving himself open to whatever Ghirahim wished at the time. Rape, torture, and/or death. Link was far more capable of imagining what the demon lord would do to him this time if he failed.

“Enough of this foolishness!” Ghirahim gasped out, clutching his head as he hunched over, the damage finally sinking in.

It didn’t happen this time during their fight. Link didn’t allow himself to make a mistake for even a second. After a long and arduous battle, Ghirahim screamed threats to him in a rage before disappearing. Link waited for the other ball to drop.

He was supposed to fail. He hadn’t expected to win. He had just hoped that he would barely make it out of the fight alive, but besides a few close calls, he had finished the battle almost entirely unscathed.

“That was beyond impressive, Master,” Fi stated emotionlessly. “If you continue like this, I predict a 97% chance of success in completing these trials and defeating Demise.”

Link wasn’t even thinking about the other trials, or even Demise. He was just so relieved that he _could_ defeat Ghirahim that he let out some combination of a laugh and a sob. Tears formed in his eyes and he kneeled to the ground still overwhelmed at the realization that he had gotten this far.

-

Link snapped his eyes open, still sitting upright, the cold stone became uncomfortable against his back. He grabbed his sword handle out of reassurance but didn’t withdraw it from its scabbard. He turned and looked over at a sleeping Impa a few feet away from him.

He realized that he was breathing heavily, and his heart was racing. Signs of another nightmare, except he didn’t quite remember exactly what happened in this one. It didn’t matter. He knew by now that this was routine for him. He had to accept that he would wake up feeling entirely alert, beyond paranoid that someone was going to appear out of the shadows and kill him.

He stood up, eyeing each dark corner of the empty building twice over before deciding that he might feel better outside. He walked to the exit, careful not to wake Impa as he slid silently through the slightly opened doors towards the pit of the Sealed Grounds.

Link walked to the edge and looked over, knowing that the large black seal at the bottom had completely disappeared. He shouldn’t be freaking out like this. He shouldn’t get paranoid. Demise was gone. Link took out one of the most powerful monsters in the world. Any other difficulties he’s had should pale in comparison.

And then he was immediately reminded as to why that wasn’t true.

“Try to imagine this for just a second,” Ghirahim said from behind him. Link spun around so quickly he nearly gave himself whiplash. The demon lord was lying down on the roof of the old building Impa resided in, peering over at him looking entirely relaxed. “Your precious Hylia constantly fighting you and telling you to go away and then immediately running headfirst into the most ridiculously obvious traps like a fly to honey. She faces death time and time again yet refuses to accept your help. What would you do?”

Link knew what Ghirahim was trying to get at. “There is no comparison. I didn’t work with an enemy set out to destroy her world. I didn’t rape, torture, and kill people. And if she really wanted me to leave that badly, I would do so in a heartbeat.”

Ghirahim let out a sigh, kicking his legs up absentmindedly. “Of course, you would.”

Link glared at Ghirahim. “You don’t understand that at all, do you? You have no concept of consent. You just take until there’s nothing left, and now that I’m feeding whatever magical fix you’re getting-”

“This isn’t because of magic!” Ghirahim interrupted, sitting up quickly. “I see you, Link! We are connected! I could feel it the very moment we met. Don’t you see? I would’ve never betrayed my old master’s orders if I was just chasing a fix! I’ve learned so much from you, and now I’m ready to give you anything you want!”

“Anything I want? All I _wanted_ is for you to disappear! This has nothing to do with what I want!”

Ghirahim merely grinned. “Come now, Link. I’m not stupid. I told you, I see you. I know you are at least tempted to watch me suffer.” He leaned forwards with a dark gleam in his eyes. “Wouldn’t it feel good to humiliate me like I did to you? Wouldn’t it feel good to have me subservient to your every command? I think I deserve punishment, and who better to mete it out than you?”

Link narrowed his eyes, unrelenting in his glare. “You’d enjoy it far more than I ever could.”

Ghirahim nodded. “True, but it’s probably better than letting me run around free, allowing all those Sheikah to die.” He lifted a finger, and Link noticed that it was bloodied, just as Ghirahim licked it with open pleasure.

Link realized what the demon lord was implying. “You killed Kyros, then?”

“It was either me or the dozen monsters crawling out of the woodworks, desperate to get their magical fix,” Ghirahim replied. “Even now, I consider your feelings. I gave Kyros a quick death to spare him getting torn apart by moblins.”

“Wow, how _merciful_ of you,” Link said with bitter sarcasm. “You haven’t changed a bit. If you wanted an attempt at redemption you would’ve saved him from death.”

Ghirahim paused, humming in thought before going on. “Imagine how much good I could do for you at your command.” The demon lord looked up in dreamy wonder, voice getting lighter at the thought. “I would be redeemed through you.”

Link turned away, forced to remind himself that it wouldn’t work out that way. He just knew it. He couldn’t change Ghirahim, no matter how hard he tried. The Sheikan prophecy was a clear indication that Ghirahim would drag him down into darkness, not the other way around.

“I have nothing but hate for you,” Link said in a low voice. “I could never redeem you.”

Ghirahim hopped off the roof and gracefully dropped down to Link’s level. “I hated you, too, but somehow, at some point, it transformed into love.”

Link snapped to attention at the sight of Ghirahim getting closer, ready to draw his sword, but Ghirahim made no more movement towards him. He just stood still, looking expectantly at Link, waiting for a reaction to his confession.

Link ran those words back in his head again, unable to accept them as truth. He put his hand up to his mouth to hold back his sudden burst of laughter. “You actually think… You actually believe that?”

Ghirahim frowned at him. “It’s true! After Demise fell, I waited hundreds of years for you and only you. I wouldn’t do that for anyone else in the world. I’m in love with you, Link.”

Link didn’t know why he was even laughing. It didn’t sound the least bit funny. It was horrifying to think about. He had lost it. He was going insane. That had to be it. He tried to calm himself down long enough to speak.

“You are not _capable_ of love,” Link replied with disgust. “I knew that from the very first moment I met you, so don’t bother trying to fool me.”

Link didn’t have time to realize that those were the wrong words to say to someone like Ghirahim, because the demon lord balled his fists and clenched his teeth, shaking with building rage.

“HOW DARE YOU!” Ghirahim shouted, casting a series of hovering daggers and sending them all straight at Link in a horizontal line. Link quickly crouched to the ground to avoid the attack, drawing out his sword.

“You would never deny me this if you became my master! You would know before I even said the words!” Ghirahim screamed in fury, stomping the ground and swinging his fists downwards. Magic sparked in the air around him. “This is why I need you to do this! This is the only way you’ll see!”

Link tensed and stepped back, lifting his sword. Whatever Ghirahim planned to do next, it couldn’t be good.

Ghirahim took a deep breath to calm himself down and then hunched forwards giving Link a sadistic grin. “You’re so afraid of us working together just because we might burn down a village? I don’t need you to do that, Link! I can destroy things or kill people anytime I like! Which would you prefer? _One precious sky-child to die or a village full of them_?”

Link’s eyes widened in horror. “Ghirahim, no!” He charged at the demon lord, desperate to grab and stop him, but he was too late.

“Better hurry,” Ghirahim taunted just as he straightened up, snapped his fingers, and teleported away. All of the air expelled from Link’s lungs as his hand grasped at air, diamonds slipping through his fingers and disappearing.

Link did the only thing he could in the moment immediately after, alone as he was. He ran towards the Skyloftian Village.


	8. Pass the Leash

Link didn’t stop to say anything to Impa, who was simply standing by her resting spot, giving him a sad look. He hoped she heard what Ghirahim had threatened to do. He hoped she understood why he couldn’t even stop to say goodbye.

Before his initial journey to the surface, Link wasn’t the type to read books all day and laze about, but he wasn’t a marathon runner either. It had taken a lot of work for him to build up enough stamina to keep traveling for days on end.

Now he was forced to put himself in his head, imagining the people he had grown up with all his life, burning in flames, killed by Ghirahim. It was motivation enough to push back the burning sensation in his legs and his lungs. His body ached but that would be nothing in comparison to what the Skyloftians would experience if he didn’t hurry.

Link ran and ran until he spotted the village houses in the distance. They were not on fire. _Not yet._ He kept running until he was close enough to a house. He slowed down, feeling his body ready to collapse from exertion. He grabbed onto the wall, trying to hold himself up and look for any indicators of what Ghirahim threatened to do.

Link stumbled forwards, looking around at all the houses. He had no idea who lived in each one. It was still nighttime, so everyone was probably asleep.

“Gaepora!” Link called out with a wheezing gasp, but he knew he wasn’t loud enough. He sucked in deep breaths of air to get his breath back.

“Gaepora!” he shouted louder. He rushed to the first house he could find and pounded on the door.

“Howell! Owlan! Eagus!” he shouted desperately. There was no response. He moved to the next house down, slamming his fist on the door, repeating those names.

“Link! What the hell is going on!” Eagus was the first one awake, rushing out of a nearby house still dressed in pajamas. A few others started to peek out of their houses, looking irritated for being woken up so early.

“Eagus!” Link said in relief. He didn’t know how to explain the situation, so it came out a disoriented mess. “I’m sorry! I wanted to stop him, but he threatened to burn down the village and I came back here to stop it, and I know he’ll do it soon. Just please bear with me!”

“What are you talking about? Slow down, Link!”

“Link?” Gaepora asked, rushing out of his house in white robes. “What’s wrong?”

Link remembered that when he and Zelda first started helping the Skyloftians move to the surface, they didn’t talk about Ghirahim to anyone. After months without seeing the demon lord, they had both assumed that demon lord was gone. There was no point in scaring everyone into paranoia if Link was the only one seeing flashes of him, and he had been experiencing flashbacks long enough to realize that some of them were just a product of his damaged mind.

“A monster,” Link tried to explain. “Like Demise, but not… he threatened to burn down the village.”

“The diamond monster?” Pipit asked tiredly as he stepped forwards, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. Karane clung to his arm in worry.

“Wait! Ghirahim is back?” Groose shouted aloud. Link winced, remembering that he and Zelda both worked very hard to convince Groose that the demon lord was gone for good. “When did you see him, Pipit?”

“He just showed up and killed these people when we were heading back from the woods,” Pipit tried to explain. “He wanted Link to kill someone. I don’t know why. It all happened so fast.”

Link suddenly wished that Zelda was here. She was the one who explained what happened to both Demise and Ghirahim and convinced everyone to move to the Surface. She had a way with words that he never had. Groose looked at him with suspicion.

“Is that why you murdered that Sheikah before at the Lumpy Pumpkin?”

Link’s heart dropped, realizing that he made a big mistake. “No! He didn’t have anything to do with that. I was just trying to defend myself!”

He could feel their eyes on him, looking at him with shock and suspicion. He was trying to focus on several things at once. The conversation at hand, any sounds of teleporting or screams of pain, and looking for a sign of the demon lord in the background. He almost hoped that Ghirahim would set fire to a house.

“He threatened to burn down the village,” Link said, voice wavering. This was a losing battle. He wasn’t convincing anyone of anything. “I just didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Alright,” Gaepora said, gaining control of the situation. “We’ll start the patrols.” Some of the knights groaned loudly in frustration. “Pipit and Groose, I want a full description of this monster that you saw. Eagus, send a group to fill more buckets of water. We’re running low anyways.”

People got to work just as morning began to dimly light up the skies. Link kept searching through the village, over and over again, looking for Ghirahim, looking for any signs of a fire, looking for anything. He knew if he didn’t find anything, he could guarantee that his reputation was pretty much ruined, and he’d be considered nothing more than a nutcase.

He didn’t find anything, and as the skies became overcast and started to drizzle, he realized that he had made a very big mistake. He was standing out in the rain in the center of the village when Gaepora walked up to him.

“Link,” he greeted. “Groose and Pipit told me what happened.”

Link looked down at the ground. “I’m sorry. I made everyone worry.”

Gaepora gave him a sympathetic look. “I appreciate you airing your concerns. Our security has been a bit lax lately. We’ve only had Gorons and Sheikah approach the village and they all have been nothing but helpful to us.”

Link gave him a weak smile. “That’s good. I’m really happy things have been working out.”

Gaepora nodded. “We have been very lucky. That being said, I don’t want our luck to run out anytime soon, and based on what Pipit has told me, I recognize potential danger when I see it.”

Link looked up at the sky as rain started to soak through his tunic. “You want me to leave.”

“That’s why you didn’t stay when you brought Pipit home, correct?”

Link bit his lip, adamantly staring at the sky to avoid his gaze. “Correct.”

“Whatever conflict you have with the Sheikah must not enter our village either,” Gaepora explained. “I wouldn’t do this if I hadn’t seen you make trips like this before. Take what you need for your journey. I’ll tell the merchants to help you stock up on whatever you need. You’re welcome to wash up,” Gaepora gestured to the house on the right. “My house is just over there.”

Gaepora paused, looking conflicted. “For the safety of everyone here, I’d like you to leave before nightfall. Is that reasonable enough for you?”

Link nodded. “More than enough. Thank you.”

He took the time to stock up on red potions and food, but he felt guilty trying to ask any of the merchants to help him with anything else. He had Gondo took a good look at his sword, but the blacksmith merely shrugged.

“You’ve taken good care of this sword, Link. There’s nothing else I can do to make it better.”

Link nodded before he left the shop. He passed by the warry knights, and even Groose, who gave him a suspicious look. Link resigned himself to stop at Gaepora’s house. He knew he smelled bad. He had built up so much sweat the last few days from fighting.

When he entered the bathroom, he hesitated to remove his tunic.

_Cold white hands caressed his chest, pushing his tunic, chainmail, and undershirt up to his neck._

Link’s hands shook as he stood there. _Come on. You’ve done this before._ He did. He took baths up at the Knight Academy at Skyloft all throughout his mission to take Demise down. He had never seen Ghirahim appear anywhere in the area until a few days ago. _He’s not showing up now. You’ll be fine._

Except Ghirahim had made a point lately to show up during the most vulnerable periods of Link’s life. It didn’t help that the demon lord had just recently confessed his love for him. Link suddenly felt sick at the idea that Ghirahim was watching him from afar. Goddesses, he really couldn’t function like this. He couldn’t even take a bath out of fear that his worst enemy could interrupt him from any moment. The thought itself made him want to scream.

He turned on the water, but only resigned to take off his hat, boots, gloves, tunic and chainmail. He stood in the shower, still clothed in his white shirt and pants, body clenched with fear, mind still reeling that he even had to resort to this. He pressed his hands against the nearby wall and tried not to think about how exposed he felt, even now. He kept glancing over at his sword, propped against the rim of the bathtub, comforted by its presence.

He turned the water off after washing underneath his wet clothes and then finishing off with his hair. He waited in the tub for close to an hour, shaking as he wrought out quickly cooling water from his shirt and sleeves. He squeezed as much water as he could from his pants before sitting in the tub, just trying to will his mind to relax for a moment as he gripped the handle of his sword.

His hair was almost dry. His clothes were only slightly wet when he got out of the tub to put the rest of his clothes back on. He ran a hand through his hair and put on his cap. He looked in the mirror, not to look at himself, _he always avoided looking at himself anymore_ , but to check corners and other possible areas for Ghirahim to sneak up behind him.

Nothing else appeared. Link was left staring at the reflection of the room with intense scrutiny. What was the point of Ghirahim bringing him here if not to make more and more people suffer? What did he have planned next?

Gaepora’s house was completely empty. The older man had left Link to his own devices. Link took the time to search for Zelda’s room. He knew she had a room on the second floor. She had even offered her bed to him on nights that he had trouble getting to sleep. He always refused the offer.

He opened the door across from Gaepora’s room. The house was still bare, brand new, and only necessities from Skyloft were flown down to the village. Just like the rest of the house, Zelda’s room was simple and modest. A small bed, a wooden drawer for clothes, a desk, and a bed lamp. On the wooden drawer on top of a few pairs of her pink and white dresses, rested the Golden Harp. To the side was a small flute, a wooden ocarina she had carved herself, and a pack of playing cards.

Link remembered when he first found the flute at Beedle’s shop and decided to give it to Zelda for her 12thbirthday. She proceeded to play the instrument throughout the next week, badly, often at all hours of the night. Gaepora was irritated at him at first for gifting it to her, but she had gotten much better over time. Link had no idea that one simple gift would be enough for her to become obsessed with playing music.

He looked over at her desk, finding a diary there. He hesitated to look at it, but then decided to at least try to find some clues about what she was planning on doing at Kakariko Village and flipped to the most recent entry. A slip of worn paper covered in ancient Hyrulian characters bookmarked the page. The notes were scattered with sections were crossed out.

Link stared at the few words he could read with tense focus. Zelda was clearly translating an old text and managed to find a description of how the Goddess Sword was made. He closed her diary shut.

He wanted to believe she found something. She must have if she was already translating ancient Hyrulian and then sought out more information from the Sheikah. The problem was, of course, did he go to her and risk the prophecy? Or should he wait for her return, trusting the Sheikah to keep her safe. The problem was that he couldn’t guarantee if she’d even be able to find him, especially since he couldn’t even stay in the Skyloftian Village anymore.

His fingers gripped the edge of the desk, body tense. If she found something to stop Ghirahim, he needed to know. He _couldn’t_ keep living like this.

Link left Gaepora’s house, adjusting his sword, bow, and arrows strapped to his back. His pouch filled with dried jerky and a red potion was tied to his belt. He looked around the village one more time, glancing at the suspicious looks of people passing by. He remembered a time when he wasn’t a dangerous figure to the people of his hometown. A time when the Skyloftians had nothing but encouraging words to say to him. They were excited and proud when he tried to become a knight.

_You left that kind of life long ago._ The thought made him feel a deep sense of loneliness. He missed that life so much.

He heard the sound of small footsteps close behind him. He reminded himself that there were other younger children in the village, and it wouldn’t do to draw his sword, no matter how tempted he was when someone came up to him from behind. He looked down just as a small hand tugged at his tunic.

“Hello mister,” said a young girl. Link immediately spotted her red eyes and long blonde hair tied up in pigtails. She was dressed in a small blue jumpsuit that was worn and tattered with holes in the knees and sleeves. She had to be close to 8 or 9 years old.

Link froze. He had never encountered a Sheikan child before. The idea that Sheikah could be anything other than older wizened warriors was jarring.

“My dad told me about you,” she explained. “You saved us from the biggest evil monster of them all.”

Link gave her a weak smile. “I did.” He immediately worried for the girl’s safety as well as his own. The last thing he wanted was to be forced to defend himself against someone’s father. “Where is your dad?”

“He went to go get potions from the shop,” she replied, and pulled a metal bracelet out of her pocket. “I made this for you.” She held it up to him expectantly.

Link grinded his teeth as politeness dictated him to take it from her. “Thank you. This is incredibly well made.”

Link didn’t have to lie to compliment her work. He eyed the band of small, thin, silver plates connected together. There was no way a child this young had made this. This bracelet was the work of an expert blacksmith.

“Does it fit you?” she asked curiously.

Link bit his lip, looking around for any signs of her father. “I think you should go back to your dad. He might get worried.” He looked over at the potions shop, waiting for the door to open. The young girl still gripped his tunic.

“You’re supposed to try it on,” she said impatiently.

Link did so, if only to please the girl. The silver bracelet fit well enough over his glove. Satisfied, the girl stepped back and started to run towards the potion shop just as the door opened and a tall Sheikan male stepped out, dressed in a brown cloak similar to Dorian’s and a large pack on his back. This Sheikah had whitish grey hair and a full-grown beard.

Link stepped back, trying to blend into the background, only for the Sheikah to look up at him directly. He tensed. He didn’t want to draw out his sword in the middle of the village. The Sheikah took his daughter’s hand and started walking towards Link.

Link eyed his belt. He spotted the sword underneath his cloak immediately and prepared for the man to draw it, though his mind reeled at the idea of a father killing a man in front of his daughter. He couldn’t be sure. He didn’t know what any of the Sheikah were capable of. What the man did instead completely surprised Link.

“Follow me,” he muttered just as he got close enough for Link to hear.

Link stared at him in confusion but didn’t question the command. He obeyed almost immediately, walking behind the two of them. The little girl would glace over at him with a worried look before nearly tripping and focusing back on the road in front of her.

They headed north, just outside the village. Link decided to finally speak up.

“I don’t want to fight you,” Link stated aloud. “If you’ve heard of that prophecy, I have no intention to hurt anyone from your village.”

The man turned around and smiled. “Good. That makes things a bit more pleasant. I suppose introductions should be made then. My name is Tharin, and this is my daughter Meda.” He gestured to the little girl, who gave him a smile and a wave. “Your name is?”

“Link.”

“Link. That’s a nice name.”

“Have you seen Zel-Hylia?” Link pressed him. “She left for Kakariko Village around 3 weeks ago. I need to know if she is safe.”

Tharin frowned and shook his head. “We left Kakariko Village around 8 months ago, after monsters started showing up and kidnapping all of the Sheikah children.”

Meda tightened her hand around her father’s, looking solemn. Link nodded in response.

“Thank you. I need to go.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Tharin said with amusement in his voice. He looked completely confident of that fact.

And then the most jarring experience happened to Link, like nothing he ever felt before. His mind told him to ignore the man, to walk away, but his legs suddenly refused to move. They were cemented to the ground. He looked down in shock.

_The bracelet._

Link immediately grabbed for it, just as Tharin commanded. “Don’t take the bracelet off.”

His fingers suddenly felt like putty, unable to even grasp the bracelet around his wrist.

“What is this?” Link shouted, panicking, hands shaking as his fingers scraped across the silver harmlessly.

“An old trinket passed down by my grandmother,” Tharin answered calmly. “She dabbled in spell work that most would find exceptionally cruel, but it does have its uses.”

Link huffed, trying to get his breathing back under control. He clenched his fists, unable to do anything else. “So, you exploited your own daughter to put me on a leash.”

“When the alternative is allowing you to burn down my village, I choose the former,” Tharin replied. “At least that’s what my brethren told me before they attempted to kill you.”

“All I’ve done is defend myself from Sheikah like you,” Link argued. “Who are quick to condemn me for something I haven’t done.”

Tharin made a grim face. “We’ve all seen this happen before. I’ve witnessed horrors that seers predicted when no one had listened. I can’t take that risk.”

Link bit his lip, looking up at the sky in hopelessness. “What do you want then?”

“Protection,” Tharin answered. “For my daughter. Monsters have been gathering towards Kakariko Village and my own farm nearby. I want protection for her.”

Link gave him a bitter smile. “You didn’t have to curse on me to do that. All you had to do is ask.”

“You seemed very certain about leaving before,” Tharin said, eyebrows raised. “Besides, if you do decide to fulfill the seers’ prophecy, now I have a way to stop you.”

Link looked down at the ground, resigned to his fate. He could understand why Tharin acted the way he did. Yet he hated the feeling of being completely out of control of his own body. He glanced over at Meda, who remained silent and sad. She stared at the ground herself, clutching her sleeve.

Tharin gave a glance over at his daughter before eyeing Link again. “You will escort us back to my farm. You will protect us both from any monsters along the way. Meda must be protected at all costs.” As soon as he believed Link got the command. “Now come along.” He turned back around, gave a pat on Meda’s shoulder and led the way.

Link had no choice but to follow. “Tharin,” he called out. Tharin didn’t stop or turn around. “There’s a monster following me. He’s a force not to be reckoned with. I’ve failed to kill him before, and I can’t guarantee that I can protect you and your daughter against him.”

Tharin turned his head, indicated that he listened but remained unconvinced. “Are you done?”

Link gave a stiff nod.

“Then let us move onward,” Tharin replied. “I’d like to cover as much ground as possible before nightfall.”

-

Link watched carefully as he followed Tharin and Meda trek north. They all kept a good distance away from the thicker part of the woods. Tharin avoided open grasslands, too nervous that they would be exposed to more monsters this way, but thankfully avoided clusters of trees. Link didn’t have to warn them of the nightmare that they would be stuck in if they tried walking through the Deep Woods.

Meda appeared somewhat used to travel. With Tharin carrying a heavy tent and supplies, she ended up running ahead often just to look at different trees and flowers. She had more than enough energy at the beginning, but by the 5th hour in, she started to get tired.

“My feet hurt,” she complained, more ashamed to admit the weakness than anything else.

Tharin sighed. “Let’s rest then.” He set down his pack as they both settled to sit against a flat boulder nearby. Link was so beyond used to traveling on foot that he didn’t bother joining them. He didn’t know if it was the command or his own paranoid mind, but it felt better to keep standing and glancing around the area to make sure nothing popped up.

“Why are your clothes green?” Meda asked suddenly, breaking the tense silence. Link glanced at her. She had adjusted herself, so she was lying down on the ground with her feet up resting against the side of the boulder.

“It’s tradition for knights to wear them,” Link answered.

“A knight?” she looked to her father for answers.

“Knights protect the Skyloft Village, Meda,” Tharin explained.

“Was mom a knight?”

There was a tense silence before Tharin went on. “That wasn’t her title, but yes, she protected us and our village.”

There was a discomfort from Tharin that Link immediately recognized. He quickly figured out that Meda’s mother was dead. He could see it in the way Tharin looked. Link had seen that same look from Gaepora and several of the other knights, especially whenever he asked about his own parents growing up.

“What’s your mom like?” Meda asked Link.

Link paused. He hadn’t been asked that question in a long, long time. Was it Stritch that forgot he was one of the orphans taken in by the Knight’s Academy? Maybe it was Groose who was the last to ask him about his mother. He wouldn’t put it past the boy to be so absorbed in his own life to remember that his mother died during childbirth.

“I never knew her,” Link replied with complete honesty. More silence ensued.

“How are your feet, Meda?” Tharin asked, patting her leg.

Meda answered by rolling over and sitting back up. “I’m okay now.”

Link kept a short distance away as they continued on. Meda focused more of her attention on him now, turning around to look back at him. She slowed down so that she started walking beside him. Tharin glanced over at her with a worried look, then gave Link a warning look, but didn’t stop.

“Is that a bow?”

“It is.”

“Did you make it?”

“No,” and then Link couldn’t help but smile at the thought. _She would like this story._ “I found it in a pirate ship.”

Meda gasped in amazement. “Pirates!”


	9. Mistakes Were Made

After Link gave out the details of how he came across the Sandship, Meda had questions for him about the ship that lasted throughout the day up until nighttime. Tharin had set up camp and his bedroll while Link explained the timestones and the ancient robots that came to life as he had explored the ship.

“Time to go to bed, Meda,” Tharin announced.

Meda looked disappointed but didn’t argue with her father. She quickly settled underneath the worn blanket that Tharin had set out for her. Tharin quietly joined her, sending a glance at Link.

“You awake enough to do first watch?”

Link nodded. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“Goodnight,” Meda said.

“Goodnight Meda,” Link replied.

There was silence as Tharin and Meda settled into their resting spots. Link walked over to a nearby boulder and sat on top of it, looking out into the darkness for any signs of life. Tharin didn’t appear at all worried that Link could take the bracelet off through the night. He waited patiently until it appeared as if the two were asleep and then tried to pull the cursed jewelry off, only to find his limbs grow instantly weak as soon as he touched the metal parts. The feeling of it made him shudder.

Link pulled an arrow from his quiver next, trying to tuck the sharp point in between his glove and the bracelet, only to have the metal bindings twist tighter, and his limbs grow weak again. He let out a huff in frustration, trying and failing over and over again. He could be patient. He could wait all night trying to get the damned cursed bracelet off if he had to.

Tharin, Meda, and Link hadn’t encountered any monsters yet throughout the trip, so Link was wary that they would be ambushed at any moment. He kept looking up and around, searching the dark for monsters, but seeing nothing. After a few hours of trying, he wished something would show up. He was forced to stew in the growing disappointment with each failure as his wrist began to hurt more and more from the pressure of the bracelet.

Link eventually got his wish, because at one point he looked up and spotted Ghirahim quietly moving through the trees and shadows, closer and closer to him, with a confident smirk on his face. Link glared, secretly angry at himself for wanting a distraction. Of course, it wouldn’t be any of the other monsters that would come to attack them. Of course, the demon lord would pick now of all times to appear. Link set aside the arrow and slowly pulled out his sword, a warning not to get too close.

“Quite the predicament you’ve got yourself in,” Ghirahim said, eyeing the two Sheikah.

Link didn’t want to discuss his own situation. “You changed your mind about burning down the Skyloftian Village.”

Ghirahim merely shrugged in amusement. “I got a bit ahead of myself. Seeing you get all flustered over nothing brought me much greater joy than I intended. I promise I’m not this wishy-washy when I have a master to follow.”

“You can’t threaten me with the village anymore,” Link stated firmly. It was a lie, but Link was desperate to convince the demon lord that his tactic wouldn’t work. “I can’t go back, ever. So, there’s no point in trying to get what you want that way.”

“You should’ve killed them all,” Ghirahim hissed. “After everything you did for them. They deserve nothing more than to kiss the very ground you walk on.”

“Enough,” Link said. He didn’t want to hear any more of the demon lord’s unsuccessful attempts to flatter him. They always had the opposite effect. “Leave right now or fight. Those are the only options I’m giving you.”

Ghirahim ignored him and stepped forwards. Link quickly slid off the boulder, sword raised.

“Do you know how easily I could break that curse for you?” Ghirahim mused, materializing his own sword. “My sword protects it’s master from magic like this. If you take my sword right now and kill the Sheikah, you’d be freed instantly.”

Link went straight for his quickest thrust to Ghirahim’s core yet. Ghirahim stumbled back. He just barely knocked the sword away with his hand, causing Link’s attack to graze off the demon lord’s shoulder. Link had him on the defensive in an instant, rushing forwards as Ghirahim summoned a sword and consistently stepped back through the woods to avoid the next attacks.

They moved quickly as they fought, Link focused almost entirely on the offensive as Ghirahim kept stepping backwards. Link didn’t even pay attention to how far away he had moved from Tharin and Meda. All that mattered is that he killed Ghirahim _right now_. He rushed forwards as the demon lord very quickly retreated back, immediately gaining distance as each of their swords collided.

The clanging sound of their swords blocking and connected echoed throughout the night, and then suddenly Link felt the curse stop him in his tracks. The feeling was so abrupt that he nearly fell over. Ghirahim merely grinned when he saw Link’s shocked look as he struggled to regain his balance. It felt like he had hit an invisible wall.

“I’m your only chance at freedom, Link,” Ghirahim teased. “You just have to break the chains.”

“I’d rather die,” Link said in a low voice, before gritting his teeth and resigning himself to turning around and walking back to the camp.

He wouldn’t willingly turn his back on the demon lord, ever, but he could feel the curse suddenly pushing him to do so. Ghirahim didn’t make any moves to stab him in the back, _or worse_ , grab his shoulders like he had a habit of doing. The demon lord teleported away, and Link’s walk back to camp was a quiet yet tense one. He quickly realized how far he and Ghirahim had traveled and why the demon lord had even bothered to fight him in the first place. Ghirahim wasn’t trying to attack him. He was testing the boundaries of the curse.

He walked back up to Tharin, who was awake and looking irritated at Link.

“You tried to run away,” he accused him.

“I didn’t,” Link argued. “There was a monster.” The excuse sounded horrible out loud. Link didn’t bother to try to convince him further.

“Go settle down and get some sleep. I’ll watch the rest of the night.”

Link didn’t feel tired immediately despite the command. Adrenaline was still rushing through his veins after his fight with Ghirahim. He huffed and settled against a nearby tree, trying to calm his racing heart, fingers tightly gripping his sword. He didn’t feel comfortable putting away his sword yet, just in case Ghirahim did try to make an appearance. Tharin didn’t carry himself like a warrior the way Lux or Xanthe did, and those Sheikah didn’t appear to stand a chance against the demon lord.

“Tharin,” Link warned him. “For the sake of your life and Meda’s, if you see what appears to be a tall man dressed in white, wake me up right away. Call for me as quickly as you can. _Don’t_ try to fight him.”

Tharin looked confused by the monster’s description but nodded anyways. Feeling relieved that Link had at least warned him, he leaned his head against the tree and closed his eyes.

-

Link had woken up to the smell of cooked rice and immediately spotted Tharin at the fire, stirring a pot absentmindedly. He took a quick assessment of his sword and the number of arrows before quickly shoving jerky into his mouth. Meda was the last to get up, but she quickly grew energized before anyone else did and started to explore the nearby areas, picking up dandelions and playing with the weeds. Link kept an almost constant eye on the surroundings around her as absentmindedly shaving off a few splinters from the wooden arrows he carried. If Tharin said that many of the Sheikah children had been kidnapped, Link had no reason to doubt it.

Soon enough, Meda wandered over to an area farther away from Tharin, and immediately a green chuchu popped up in front of her. The gelatinous mass was twice Meda’s size, mouth dripping as it opened wide, large enough to swallow her whole. Link instantly shot an arrow at the chuchu, stopping it in its tracks, before Meda even realized what had happened.

Meda let out a yelp and stumbled back as the chuchu split into two parts. Link grabbed his sword and ran forwards, gently pushing her shoulder so she was behind him and slicing through the two gelatin masses in one swing, breaking them apart again until they were lifeless gel.

Link looked over his shoulder as Meda clutched the end of his tunic. “You alright?”

Meda nodded. “I hate those things.”

Link glanced over at Tharin, who had spilled the pot of rice in order to draw his sword. Tharin merely gave him a look of relief before sheathing his sword, regretful of the mess he made.

“Me too,” Link replied, sheathing his sword. He waited patiently for Meda to calm down long enough to let go of his tunic while Tharin cleaned up the mess of rice and water that had splattered all over the fire.

“We’re getting close,” Tharin stated as his hand started to glow and the dying fire alight with flames. “Whenever we travel for long, monsters begin to crowd around our farmlands. There’s been more and more lately, so I know they’ll be a good number of them by the time we arrive.” He purposefully looked at Link. “I expect you to take care of them.”

Link nodded in understanding. He paused, watching as Tharin muttered under his breath to keep the flames alive.

“Have you ever gone long periods without using magic?” Link asked.

Tharin gave him an odd look. “When traveling yes, but otherwise, no. I’m sure your culture does things differently.”

“We’ve never had to deal with monsters kidnapping children,” Link pointed out. “Let alone monster invasions in general.”

“Well I’m sure living up on an island on the sky helped.”

“There are plenty of flying monsters in the sky that were capable of attacking Skyloft,” Link argued. “Yet we rarely ever had to worry about them.”

Tharin paused, looking at him with suspicion. “What are you implying?”

Link hesitated, trying to remember how Impa explained it. He didn’t know enough about magic to distinguish monster attracting and non-monster attracting magic.

“That maybe the monsters are drawn to the magic you cast,” Link explained. He could at least say that. Skyloftians never used magic and considering how safe their village on the Surface had been so far, Link figured that the suggestion could help.

“A nice theory,” Tharin replied dismissively. “But not one worth entertaining.”

“You should try it,” Link argued. “Especially if you’re so worried for Meda’s safety.”

Tharin glared at him. “I’ve lived on the Surface all my life. I know what I need to do to protect my daughter. Don’t you ever try to use her against me to promote your own backwards principles again.”

Link sighed, resigned to silence. However long he stayed at their service, it appeared he would have his work cut out for him.

-

After several more hours of walking, Link could tell they were getting close to the farm. Tharin had led them on a well-worn path that extended north. They had passed by the last of the woods, as the trail curved to the northeast. However, Tharin looked a bit relieved as he led them away from the path, to the northwest.

“Almost there, Meda,” Tharin reassured her, as they walked through the empty grassland.

They came across a few more chuchus and guay, which Link had easily taken out. Tharin even pulled out his own sword and sliced one of the dark crow-like monsters in half before it could peck at him.

They walked until Tharin spotted his house in the distance. The house was small, enough to only have two floors, with a larger barn locked up and attached to the side. Short wooden fencing surrounded the front yard. The place looked modest. Link was surprised, never expecting a place like that to attract monsters, and yet he could see the at least two moblins and a collection of bokoblins all gathered at the front yard of the house.

“Home!” Meda said excitedly, before Tharin grabbed her and dragged her near the taller grass where they couldn’t be seen. Link quickly followed them, mind immediately plotting out his strategy of attack.

“Did you get a good look?” Tharin asked.

“Yup,” Link said confidently. “Stay here. I’ll let you know when it’s safe.”

Tharin gave him an appreciative look. “Be careful.”

Link gave him a short nod before carefully sneaking closer and closer to the house. He didn’t want to bring any attention to Tharin and Meda, so he moved away from the tall grass before setting up his bow.

As soon as Link was certain that he could draw the monsters away from Tharin and Meda, he stood up fully and fired an arrow. The arrow landed straight through the head of one of the bokoblins, sending the rest into a rage.

Link took two more arrows out of his quiver, sticking one between his teeth, just as a few bokoblins clamored over the wooden fence and started charging at him. He drew his bow again, firing at another bokoblin still next to the house, one that had gone to reach for its own bow and arrows.

A group of four bokoblins were getting closer to Link. He dropped the last arrow from his mouth and fired it at one of the charging monsters. The bokoblin tried to block it with its large knife but missed as the arrow lodged into its throat. The monster fell, sending the others behind it to trip over the body.

Link drew his sword and made quick work of the rest. He rolled to duck under one of the swings, stabbing his sword down through the back of the bokoblin that had fallen on his friend. He blocked another slash from one monster and then stepped back to avoid a swing from the other.

Once Link learned the trick with bokoblins, generally fighting them was easy. They all fought the same way. A few quick dodges to let down their guard was enough for Link to stab one through the chest and slice open the other deep enough for their innards to spill out.

Link finished them off just to see a moblin hobbling towards him in the distance, hindered by its own big bulk. Link swung his sword in a quick circular motion, flicking excess monster blood off of it before charging up to it. The moblin carried a shield and spear, and immediately thrust its spear at Link when close enough. Link dashed to the side before running up close, jumping up off its shield, and slamming his sword down into the exposed part of its neck.

He quickly removed his sword from the dead hulking body that collapsed, just as an arrow landed in front of him. He spotted another bokoblin from far away that had managed to grab its dead friend’s bow and arrows. A moblin stood next to the archer, spear menacingly, daring Link to come attack it as it guarded the other lone survivor.

Another arrow was aimed at Link, who batted it away easily with his sword. He swung himself over the fence and knocked away the first spear attack from a moblin. His feet slid, and he nearly lost his balance as he realized that he had landed in an area full of wet mud. The moblin swung his spear at his head, to which Link ducked, dropping low and landing a blow to cut off one of the moblin’s legs. The moblin squealed in pain, falling over, giving Link the ability to slam his sword down into its head.

Another arrow was sent Link’s way, as he just barely got his sword up in time to block it. Before Link could make another move, a black dagger, glowing in red magic, slammed into the final bokoblin, right between its eyes. The monster collapsed to the ground.

Link turned around, spotting Ghirahim who almost lazily leaned over the fence, chin resting on his hands.

“It’s truly unfortunate that I never got to appreciate moments like this,” Ghirahim commented wistfully. “Doesn’t it feel delightfully rewarding to kill with such expertise, Link?”

Link froze, the words having more of an impact than he’d like to admit. He remembered finally feeling unafraid as he put Fi’s teachings into practice, slaughtering Lizalfos more easily than he expected. He remembered the satisfaction of smashing apart the giant Ancient Automaton. He remembered the endless adrenaline high he received from mowing down monsters with ease as Ghirahim had desperately raced to summon Demise.

Ghirahim was right. Link had desperately pushed himself to be the best at swordplay he could possibly be. It did feel good to see the full results of his hard work, even if they were a pile of monsters bleeding out in the mud.

Link didn’t answer him though. He rushed towards the demon lord, just as Ghirahim straightened up, realizing he was the next target. Link leaped and swung his sword down just as Ghirahim teleported a few feet out of the way.

Link leapt over the fence and quickly rushed Ghirahim again, just as the demon lord resorted to blocking the attack with his arms. After a few blocks, the demon lord tried catching Link’s blade. Link let out a breath when he realized Ghirahim’s strategy, but never allowed Ghirahim a sliver of a chance to grab his sword. He hadn’t made that kind of mistake since the Skyview Temple. He threw in a feint attack that Ghirahim reached out to grasp the blade in order to stop him, breaking his guard. Link was quicker, landing a perfect stab at the demon lord’s core.

Ghirahim grunted in pain and stumbled back, looking furious. Black cracks along his chest and limbs began to form again. Link moved forwards, still riding off his adrenaline high. He was going to do it. He was going to finally kill Ghirahim. He would finally be free from this monster and all the pain he caused.

Once again, Link was unaware of how far away he had moved from the farm as he rushed after the demon lord. Ghirahim knew better as he nearly fell backwards, defending each and every blow that Link mercilessly attacked him with.

“Stop!” shouted Tharin.

And to his horror, Link did stop. Ghirahim merely grinned breathlessly, stepping backwards to get more distance between them before teleporting away.

“No!” Link screamed, furious that he was forced to allow the demon lord to escape.

Ghirahim had looked like he was running out of magic and too weak to survive another blow. He hadn’t even conjured any blades to stop him. Link was _so close_ to finally ending it, and it was just the curse that held him back. He could feel it. He collapsed to his knees as the adrenaline faded away.

“Tharin,” Link choked, limbs shaking as he realized what he had lost. “Let me go. Please. You don’t know what you’re allowing to survive by stopping me. You don’t know what he can do. I need to kill him!”

“Whatever is going on between the two of you, I don’t care.” Tharin dismissed him. “Protecting my daughter takes precedence over your desire for revenge.”

Link let out a crazed laugh. “This isn’t revenge or me running away. He tried to resurrect Demise. He’s hurt more people than you could possibly-”

“Enough!” Tharin interrupted. “Demise is gone forever, and whoever you were attacking looked pretty weak to me. If he comes back, you’ll have your chance.” Tharin sighed and gestured over to the house. “Now, help me move the bodies to the fire pit.”

Link ground his teeth in frustration as a sense of numbness overcame him. He didn’t try to fight the command.


	10. A Goal Attained

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're all the way up to Chapter 10 and some of you may be wondering, "Why is this story rated Explicit/ have Noncon tags?" Welp. This chapter is the answer and this is **your final warning!**
> 
> That being said, thank you to everyone who's left comments. They make my otherwise quarantine isolated days much more enjoyable at the moment. Hope y'all are taking good care of yourselves!

Later on, Link realized that he had monster blood splattered all over his left shoulder and mud from the farm had caked on his legs up to his knees. Normally, he would find the nearest water source and rinse everything out as best he could, but the nearest water source was in Tharin’s house, and it was definitely limited. He could search for a nearby river, but his ability to stray from the house was also _severely limited_.

He had gone long periods without water before. There were no water sources in the Eldin Volcano, and very little opportunities for water in the Lanayru Desert. He absentmindedly picked dried mud off his pants, remarking at how often he had done so in his clothes the past year. He had gone over a week without ever washing his clothes in the Fire Sanctuary.

The problem was that _after Ghirahim_ , Link had only felt comfortable bathing or even just changing his clothes in the middle of the night, when no one else was around. It was the only reason he discovered that the Knight’s Academy had been home to a ghost in the toilet begging for paper. That was _not_ a good night for him.

Link sat on the wooden fence that surrounded Tharin’s house, amongst the cows that he had let out from the barn. He tried to plot out a way to get new clothes so he wouldn’t have to change anywhere near them. They only had an outhouse for a bathroom. After Link had discovered that, he had refused dinner, avoiding any reason to step inside their house and track dirt throughout.

The cows had avoided him for the most part, but Meda stepped out into the dark night, dressed in a plain nightgown and tall boots, looking at Link with curiosity.

“You’re really good at fighting,” she commented, walking up to him, resting her hands against the fence casually. “What did you do to get so good?”

Link considered the question. The fact that he didn’t take his sword training at the Knight’s Academy seriously enough stung. At the same time, he knew that Eagus, Horwell, Owlan or even Peater could never prepare him for the battles he faced when he first landed on the Surface. It was Fi, more than anyone else, who helped him become the swordsman he was today. She always kept herself emotionally detached, yet every training session felt like therapy.

“I had a really good mentor,” Link answered honestly. “And my best friend would’ve died if I wasn’t good enough.”

Meda looked at the ground with a sad look on her face. Link remembered asking Impa about her own life, and why she was chosen to protect Zelda throughout their journey.

_“I trained for this since childhood,” Impa replied coldly, just after Zelda accepted her fate, sealing herself away into an amber crystal cave to protect herself from bringing back Demise._

Link grimaced and bit his lip. “It takes time, Meda,” he answered. “No one is perfect. Not even me. There are people that I’ve failed, even at my best.”

_He remembered the flash of diamonds, the quick slide of the black sword cutting straight through the bones in his right arm, leaving him nearly bleeding out as Ghirahim hauled Zelda over his shoulder and teleported away. It was only quick action from Groose and Impa pouring red potion into the gaping wound that saved him. Looking back, he was shocked that he managed to keep his right arm intact at all. It was the first of many realizations that he couldn’t let his guard down, even when he thought the fight was over._

“All of my teachers tell me I need discipline,” Meda said frustrated. “I keep asking how you get discipline, but they don’t answer. I just wanted to play with Rhea again.”

_A 13-year-old Link sat at a table setting up chess pieces across the board. Zelda sat across from him carefully examining the booklet that came with the set, reading the rules aloud to him._

_“Oh, this move isn’t really explained that well, but it is possible. You can move your king two squares towards the rook on this side, and then move the rook to the square over which the king crossed,” She explained pointing to the corresponding pieces._

_“Got it,” Link said, as he moved a pawn forward. He gave her a challenging smirk. “You’re move.”_

_Zelda grinned as she closed the booklet. “Don’t look at me like that! This is our second game and you’re already acting like you’re the chess expert.”_

_“It’s a simple game, like Gaepora said,” Link teased her. “If you prefer, we can always go back to checkers, Zel.”_

_“No way. I’m going to beat you this time! Just like I would’ve if Groose hadn’t knocked over the board,” Zelda said competitively, wagging her finger at him._

Link smiled at the memory. He hadn’t reminisced on his time with Zelda in a while. His chest ached as he was reminded that it had been far too long since he had last seen her. They hadn’t played any board games together in years.

“Yeah,” he replied, unable to think of anything to reassure Meda. “I know the feeling.”

“Meda!” Tharin called out. “Time for bed.”

Meda paused, making a grunt of frustration before turning back to Link. “Goodnight, Link.”

“Goodnight, Meda,” Link replied.

Tharin stepped out to the doorway, looking over at Link. Link felt his breathing pick up.

“I-I’ll take first watch,” Link stammered out before Tharin could say anything. “Like before.”

“Alright,” Tharin replied with mild surprise. “Just don’t stray too far from the house.”

Link swallowed convulsively, trying to will away the sick, sweaty feeling crawling over his skin. He gripped his arms tightly to keep them from shaking, despite not being cold. He heard Tharin return back inside. He waited, counting the minutes, hoping that the Sheikah had gone to bed.

By hour three, Link finally decided it was time to try and find some new clothes. Tharin would find it odd, but Link knew that it was better than the alternative. He quietly opened the front door, pulling off his muddy boots, and started searching.

He looked through the small space of the living room, opening a large wardrobe sitting against the side of the stairwell up to the second floor. He found a few spare cloaks for Tharin and Meda, but no other clothes available. His hands shook at the thought of trying to sneak into Tharin’s wardrobe just to find something. He kept searching through the first floor, even looking through the kitchen only to find a few spare aprons. As soon as he realized that he wasn’t going to find a spare set of clothes nearby, he focused on getting his breathing under control.

_“Deep breaths, Master,” Fi repeated to him calmly. “Count the seconds it takes to inhale and exhale. Try to extend that number. You can control this.”_

He knew he was panicking over nothing. It had to be. Who would freak out over having some privacy to change their clothes? He used to live at the Knight’s Academy, where the knights would always come in and out to use the facilities. They all walked around half naked for convenience at some point. Link used to do the same, back when he never had a reason to be ashamed of his body.

He heard the sound of footsteps and his heart leaped up to his throat. If it was Tharin, it didn’t matter if he tried hiding. He walked into the living room to meet the Sheikah, who illuminated the dark interior with a single lantern.

“Something wrong?” Tharin asked.

“No, nothing,” Link replied nervously. Every instance of silence felt far too long. “It’s a bit chilly out. I was looking for more supplies for the fire.”

“Oh, alright,” Tharin said. “I’ll take over so you can get some rest.”

“I’m okay,” Link said quickly, trying to hide his desperation. “I’m not tired. I’ll stay out a bit longer.”

Tharin gave him an odd look. “I’d rather have you well rested. There’s a spare bedroom upstairs.” He gave Link a look over. “Those clothes are a mess.” He deliberated for a moment. “You’re better off getting rid of them before they muddy up the rest of the house. Take them off here while I grab a spare.”

At face value, the command sounded harmless, casual, yet to Link, it was the pebble shattering ten feet of granite in his mind. His chest nearly burst with fright as his hands started to move against his will. Tharin set aside the lantern and casually walked up the stairs as Link took off his hat and gloves, forced to keep the bracelet on the entire time. Even though Link was struggling to breathe at that moment, he felt a small sense of relief of having privacy while he stripped.

Until it became much worse…

“The poor Sheikah is missing the show,” Ghirahim taunted from behind him.

And then Link’s vision blurred, mind struggling and failing against the curse as his hands felt less and less like his own. He didn’t even hear Ghirahim enter or teleport into the room, but now he was there, walking into his line of vision, looking excited and almost hungry. Link couldn’t do anything. He closed his eyes, trying to will the visual away, and then he remembered what happened at the Skyview Temple.

_“You keep struggling,” Ghirahim threatened, knifepoint held to his exposed leg. “And I’ll cut these limbs off, **slowly**.” He looked dead serious, as if daring Link to convince him to do so._

_It was enough for Link to stop fighting the magic bindings. “Please let me go. Please! I won’t fight you. I promise!”_

_Sharp pain shot through Link’s body as Ghirahim cut into his inner thigh. “Go on. Keep begging,” the demon lord mocked. “I love it when they beg.”_

_Ghirahim licked the blood running down his bare leg, and it was enough for Link to completely separate from his body. He felt like he was a different person than the one tied down. He could convince himself that this wasn’t happening to him but to someone else instead. He focused his full attention at his sword, embedded firmly in the rock wall several feet away. Each inch felt like a mile’s worth of distance away from Fi._

“Look at you,” Ghirahim said with possessive delight. “You still have my mark.”

The demon lord reached out towards the scarring exposed on the juncture point of Link’s neck and shoulder. “Don’t,” Link pleaded, voice cracking, barely a whimper. He stepped back, hitting a wooden table behind him.

Ghirahim stopped as soon as he heard Tharin’s footsteps returning an immediately teleported away.

_Link heard a scream from far away. After a few moments he realized that scream was his. He was reacting to Ghirahim’s fingers as they dug deep into the wound in his leg, bringing more blood forth, covering his pale white hand with rivulets of red. The demon lord pushed Link’s legs down, moving up his broken body, staring at him with curious amusement. He grabbed his flaccid cock, hand still wet with blood, stroking it to full hardness._

_“Do you like that, sky-child?” Ghirahim whispered in his ear. The demon lord pulled Link’s collar to the side and bit down hard on his neck, teeth tearing through skin._

Link was shaking uncontrollably as he pulled down his pants just when Tharin entered the room. Tharin was looking away, trying to be respectful of Link’s nudity. He didn’t even notice Link’s reaction as he set aside a pale blue tunic and black pants on the table.

“It’s been awhile since my younger days,” Tharin commented. “You’re probably around the same size.”

_“Answer me,” Ghirahim commanded, squeezing Link’s cock in warning. The grip was so much more painful than before, his whole body twitched as he felt like his most sensitive organ was crushed beneath the grip. He was forced back into his own head and desperately tried to think of the answer that would end this._

_“No,” Link breathed out, voice cracking, before he let out a sob. “I don’t want this.”_

_“Hmph,” Ghirahim said with a smirk. “Let’s move on to something more fun then.”_

_Ghirahim let go of his cock and then reached lower and lower, forcefully shoving two fingers right inside him without any preparation. Link didn’t look and tried his best not to react at all to the sudden spearing agony running through him. He heard another scream. Was that him again? No matter. He pulled all of his focus solely on his sword still embedded in rock. The Goddess sword began to glow, tiny pieces of the rock wall splitting apart and collecting on the ground._

Tharin collected the muddy clothes Link left on the floor. “Your clothes are there, Link. You can try them on, now.” He took one glance at Link, who was visibly shaking, frozen with fear. “Are you alright?”

Ghirahim appeared again, in the corner of the room behind Tharin, looking surprised to be there. The demon lord’s core was glowing with bright light. He stumbled forwards as the handle of the dark blade poked out of his chest.

_Ghirahim loomed above him, removing his fingers and looking at them. “Pure as the virgin snow,” he commented with a grin. “Of course, Hylia wouldn’t associate with anyone else. How hilarious will it be to see her perfect hero tainted!”_

_The demon lord grabbed Link’s legs again and folded them into his chest. He pulled the single strap of his white bodysuit off his shoulder, shedding his clothes and exposing his own body fully._

_Link watched as the Goddess Sword began to vibrate, then suddenly shot forwards, hilt landing in his hand. In an instant, the magical bonds around his wrists completely disappeared._

Tharin turned around in shock as Ghirahim’s glowing core lit up the room, sword appearing out of his chest and then flying forwards, landing in Link’s bare hand.

_Link sprang up instantly, shoving his sword forwards with all his might, driving the Goddess Sword straight through Ghirahim’s chest._

Link blindly swung the sword on instinct. The black blade cleaved through flesh like butter. Tharin turned his head to face Link, only to have his body split apart diagonally from neck to torso. The cursed bracelet shattered, pieces of metal clinking against the wooden floor, followed by the total collapse of the two separated parts of Tharin’s dead body.

Link dropped the sword to the ground in horror, brain in full panic mode as he grabbed the clothes set aside on the table and rushed to pull them on as quickly as possible. His hands shook so badly that he struggled to put the pants on for close to a minute. He threw the tunic on roughly, nearly ripping the material, and grabbed his original sword, completely ignoring the black blade on the ground. He only stopped to slip on his boots before he was running outside. He kept running and running and running until his lungs hurt. He was still panicking as a new foreign presence in his mind appeared, feeling irritated.

Link stopped when he could no longer run anymore. Gasping for breath, he quickly turned around to see Ghirahim calmly walking up to him. He looked insulted.

“Get the hell away from me!” Link shouted, sword quickly raised, nearly falling over as he stumbled backwards. Ghirahim stopped in his tracks, looking furious.

“You called for my sword!” Ghirahim snapped. “I heard it, plain as day. You’re my master now. There’s no point in using that petty excuse for a knife!”

“If I am your master,” Link said with vitriol and desperation multiplying in each sentence. “Then I order you to go away. I order you to disappear. I order you to kill yourself!”

Ghirahim snapped his fingers and the blade in Link’s hand completely shattered, metal pieces flying every which way. He flinched, expecting pain from the shards, but somehow none of the pieces managed to cut through him. Link looked down in horror and confusion as he suddenly saw that the hilt remained and nothing else.

Ghirahim kneeled down in front of him, dark Master Sword in his hands. “Take my blade. It is rightfully yours now.”

Link stared, before making up his mind. He threw away the hilt from his broken sword and grabbed the new sword from Ghirahim’s hands. The demon lord looked up, pleased at how quickly Link acquiesced to the situation. He stood up, just as Link drove that same sword right through his core once more, the dark point of the blade sticking right through his back.

Ghirahim froze in shock, looking down at the blade sticking through his center. Link watched as his center suddenly leaked black oil, dripping down his front. Ghirahim let out a choking noise, the same monster blood splattering out from his lips. The demon lord coughed, his entire body quivering as Link watched him struggle.

Link yanked the sword back out of his chest, just as Ghirahim collapsed to the ground. The presence in his mind felt pleased. He stepped backwards, hand clutching the sword in a vice grip, still not quite understanding what had happened. Doubt and dread began to rise in his mind as the presence didn’t disappear. It remained there, happy, almost preening with joy. Link bit his lip, staring at the motionless body of Ghirahim.

“You’re not dead, are you?” Link said, voice wavering, hopelessness flooding through him.

Ghirahim responded by lifting his head up, spitting out excess blood, and then getting up to his knees. “No, I’m not. Our life forces are merged. It will take nothing short of Demise’s level of power to kill me now, and I certainly cannot be harmed by our very own blade.”

Ghirahim stood up, looking hopeful. “Did it please you to see me that way, Master?”

Link flinched at the title. He didn’t want to answer Ghirahim. Perhaps for the split second that he believed it, maybe he felt a bit relieved, but definitely not after knowing that it was just a farce.

“I know that you still believe me to be the same monster that worked for Demise,” Ghirahim said calmly and reached out to him. “All of that can change-”

Link stepped back. “I order that you never, _ever_ touch me. Do you understand?”

“I can change for you!” Ghirahim pleaded, hope glimmering in his eyes. “I waited hundreds of years for you. I love you!”

The presence in Link’s mind was mocking him. He could sense it. It filled him with a burning humiliation and rage. “Liar! You will never be anything but a monster!” he shouted. Link stepped forward, swinging a right hook at Ghirahim’s jaw.

Ghirahim’s face swung to the side from the impact, and Link dropped the sword again before swinging another punch with his left. Ghirahim fell to the ground by the force of it. Link kneeled on his chest, keeping him in a helpless position.

“You are pure evil! You disgust me!” Link shouted, unable to control himself as he kept swinging fist after fist at Ghirahim’s face. “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!”

He heard a scream coming from the house and it immediately broke him out of the swirling, endless sea of blind rage. The world came into full focus again as he stood up and quickly gained some distance from Ghirahim. The demon lord was covered in black marks all over his face, but they quickly started to fade as Link stepped further away from him.

“Meda!” Link breathed, wondering if a monster snuck in to kidnap her, and then he realized a split second later exactly why she was screaming.

Bile rose up to his throat faster than he could control. He stumbled a few feet towards the house and then hunched over and vomited undigested pieces of jerky and stomach acid as he remembered what happened to Tharin.

_Oh goddesses, you killed her father. You killed him. How could you do that? You’re not human, are you? You’re a monster just like them. Just like **him**._

Link’s mind reeled as he finally stopped heaving, limbs shaking, vision blurring, and more of the numb feeling took over. He wiped the drool from his mouth and stumbled forwards, grasping onto a nearby tree for support.

_What are you going to do?_

_Leave her. Just forget about her. She’s going to starve in the house or be kidnapped by monsters any day now._

_Kill her. End her suffering. Spare her a life of forever seeing her father’s dead body like this._

_**No. What are you doing? Why are you even thinking these things?** _

“You’re in my head,” Link gasped, clutching his hair and pulling, trying to force his own thoughts out of the murderous fog that clouded his mind. “Why are you in my head? Get out of my head!”

Ghirahim slowly got to his feet, smile unwavering, his face finally back to a pristine white. “We’re bonded together, you and me. I feel your connection just as you feel mine.”

Ghirahim picked up his sword again, walked over and gently placed it in Link’s hand. Link shivered in fear and disgust, even when his instincts screamed at him to take the blade in case he needed to defend himself. Link stood up fully, body shaking, as Ghirahim stepped back, looking at him expectantly for a command.

“I can kill her for you, Master,” Ghirahim offered. “You would never have to even see it happen. Her pain would end and so would your guilt-”

“Shut up!” Link shouted. He didn’t want to hear him speak.

Link was shaking so badly as he walked back to the house. He nearly fell over trying to get over the fence. He walked back up to the house, hand reaching for the door and paused. He didn’t know if he could do this, but the thought of leaving Meda alone to die was far worse.

Link pushed open the door, forced to see Tharin’s body, surrounded by blood that covered almost the entire wooden room. He saw his own chainmail, dirty clothes, gloves, bow and quiver full of arrows had all been soaked in the Tharin’s entrails and blood. Over to his left, Link spotted Meda, sitting in a ball, crouched on the floor, eyes puffy, red, and covered in tear tracts. She watched the puddle of blood at her feet, face detached and emotionless.

“Meda, hey,” Link reached over to her, only to withdraw his hand, clenching his fist. She looked up at him with teary eyes. “Let’s step outside for a moment.”

She nodded, and stood up, following him without any more prompting. She was dressed in a dark blue nightgown. Her bare feet padding across the pool of blood as Link guided her outside. Ghirahim was waiting there, leaning against the fence.

“Leave us,” Link ordered firmly. Ghirahim rolled his eyes, snapping his fingers and disappeared.

“Who…” Meda began, only to stop as Link kneeled down at her level.

“Meda,” Link began. “We can’t stay here. It’s just way too dangerous right now. Do you have someone that you know or a place where you feel safe?”

Meda opened her mouth, and then paused. “Dad said we would be safe here,” she nearly whispered. Tears formed in her eyes and started falling down her cheeks.

Link bit his lip, desperately ignoring the welling guilt that surged through his bones. “Is there anywhere else? Did you talk to any of the people at the Skyloft Village? Anyone you think you might be comfortable staying with for a while?”

Meda’s voice grew louder but sounded just as terrified and desperate. “I want to stay with you.”

_Just kill her or leave her already._

Link looked down, willing away the foreign thoughts from his brain. “I’m so sorry, Meda. I can’t.”

“Why not?” Meda cried out.

“It’s complicated,” Link answered. “It’s not because I don’t want to. There are other things going on in my life that make it really dangerous if you stay with me. I know you want to blame yourself for this, but none of this was in your control. None of this is your fault.”

Meda started to cry openly and loudly. He reached out, pulling her into his embrace, and she sobbed, wet tears and snot on his shoulder. He tried to be as patience as possible, letting her cry it out. He felt in this constant push and pull where he wanted to silence her crying in the worst way possible and yet he also wanted to cry along with her. Most of all, he wanted to mourn the horrific circumstance that brought the both of them to this point.

He tried not to think of his own guilt over Tharin’s death, and instead focused on remembering himself at 5 years old. His mother was dead, and his father worked as one of the senior knights. His father would fly his loftwing and rescue people for the Knight’s Academy. He would go long periods of time without seeing his dad, leaving many of the other villagers, usually a younger Wryna or Orielle to watch over him.

However, at some point he remembered that his father had left for a night shift, and then was never found. After 2 days missing, Orielle didn’t know what to do at first, feeling far too awkward to leave him alone yet knew that she couldn’t stay and watch over him forever.

Link had felt like one giant burden at the time. He missed his father so much, but the worst part was having to leave his own house, the place he grew up in, to move into the Knights Academy. He had begged Gaepora for him to stay at his own home, and then cried and screamed for over an hour when he couldn’t. Years later he accepted that there were certain things he wanted more than life itself that he could never have.

“My Aunt Cyrene,” Meda mumbled into Link’s shoulder. “I-I think she’s still at Kakariko.”

Link sighed. “Good. That’s really good. Thank you, Meda, let’s…”

Link lowered his head, trying to think. He knew that he should take Meda back to Kakariko Village. He was hoping he wouldn’t have to, but it had to be done. The prophecy loomed in the back of Link’s mind. He shouldn’t go there. He knew he shouldn’t, and yet everything that happened to him forced him closer and closer to that fate.

_They’re all supposed to die. You can’t fight destiny._

Link pushed down that foreign presence in his mind. “Let’s get ready then. Do you know if your father kept any maps around that could guide us there?”

“I can guide us there.”

Link turned around and glared. “I told you to leave us.”

Ghirahim crossed his arms, looking slightly miffed. “You need to know where to go. I can provide.”

Link clenched his fists, debating whether he should risk taking Ghirahim’s help once more. It always seemed to end up making things worse. Meda looked over at Ghirahim in confusion.

“A-are you the monster that’s following Link?” she asked openly, wiping away her tears.

“I am,” Ghirahim said in a sickly-sweet voice adding a short bow in greeting. “You may call me Lord Ghirahim.”

“Don’t speak to her,” Link commanded, knowing that Ghirahim could easily concoct some sort of traumatic nightmare for Meda to suffer through. He could feel it in his brain. “Don’t touch her. Don’t go near her.”

Ghirahim let out a frustrated sigh before taking a few steps back to follow Link’s commands.

Link helped Meda back inside to quickly change into traveling clothes, grab some food and the sleeping mat Tharin had carried. He knew it was the middle of the night, but he just needed to leave. He hoped Meda could understand that. Link paced across the hallway as Meda changed into traveling clothes in her own room. He wanted to speak up, tell her to hurry, and bit into the meaty section of his hand instead. He needed some sort of pain right now to distract himself, to keep away the thoughts in his mind that demanded blood.

When Meda finally finished stepping outside her room, Link grabbed her hand and gently guided her back outside. Ghirahim spotted them and gestured for them to follow.

“You’re going to take us the safest route possible,” Link ordered with a glare.

“Of course, Master,” Ghirahim replied amusedly, as if Link was stating the obvious. “I would never intentionally lead you into danger.”

Link stopped, rage building in his chest. He had to let go of Meda out of fear that he might crush her hand. “Don’t lie to me. Back in the woods, you could’ve teleported me anywhere, but you chose to drop me right into the middle of a trap.”

“You weren’t my master back then,” Ghirahim stopped to point out. “Besides, the deal was to save the sky-child and I brought you to the closest healer.”

Ghirahim smiled, brushing his hair with a flick, pleased that Link couldn’t immediately come up an argument against him. Link tried, but the word ‘sky-child’ immediately triggered him and any rational thought flew from his mind. He couldn’t lose it now, not in front of Meda, despite the ever-growing temptation to punch Ghirahim’s smug face again.

They walked further on, until the light of dawn peaked over the sky. Meda silently stayed close Link’s side. “What’s going to happen to my home?”

Link wanted to tell her that she’d go back one day. He knew his 5-year-old self would want to hear the same thing. He wanted to go home again. He wanted to see his father again. He wanted everything to stop feeling like a nightmare and the world as he knew it would return back to normal. But that never happened, and Link didn’t want to give Meda any false hope.

“I don’t know,” he replied with a deep sadness.


	11. Children of the Sheikah

Meda had hit her limit for walking less than an hour later, and decided to lie in the grass, almost idly before telling him, “My feet hurt.”

Link was feeling exhausted as well. Ghirahim stopped and then stood a few feet away, arms crossed, looking impatient. Link did his very best to ignore him. The sun was shining when they settled down to rest. Link gave Meda some of his leftover jerky to eat, before he sat, back against a tree. He felt every muscle in his body incrementally relax, after his limbs felt stiff as wooden boards for most of the night. He had to purposefully relax his left hand, suddenly realizing that he had had a death grip on the black blade for most of the night.

Meda remained silent for the majority of the time, and so did Ghirahim. The only sounds were the rustling of the occasional wind, and Meda’s own struggles to chew through the jerky Link gave her.

Link was exhausted. He had gone days without even naps before, but it was always a struggle to keep awake or think during that time. He remembered spending days in the most dangerous temples, having to resort to sitting against a wall and just resting his eyes in order to make sense of the crude map drawings he would find. He knew that sometimes, just resting his eyes would turn into a few hours of sleep.

Link did sleep this time, but he wasn’t at all prepared for the dream that came afterwards.

He recognized his home, his first home, _his father’s home_ , in bits and pieces. The light blue rug, the wooden desk on the side, with the potted cactus, and several other jars of red potion. A large ram’s horn rested over the fireplace. A few tags and trinkets hung on a wooden post, above a large chest. Link remembered that he wasn’t allowed to touch the wooden chest because that was where his father stored his sword and other supplies as a knight.

He sat on the light blue rug with a young Zelda and Groose. They were playing card games, like they always used to do, except Link hadn’t met Zelda and Groose until after he moved into the Knight’s Academy. The sudden merging of his worlds was uncomfortably jarring.

“What do you got, Groose?” Zelda teased, openly competitive. “You’ve got to play something. C’mon.”

Groose looked nervous. Both Link and Zelda figured out very quickly that Groose always played his best cards first. It was his downfall. He was far too desperate to win in order to impress Zelda. In turn, whenever he and Zelda played cards together, it became a challenge of who could exploit Groose more in order to win.

Groose played a nine of hearts, to which Zelda quickly threw down her jack, followed by a seven of clubs, an unbeatable card in their game of Treikort. She turned to Link, confident smirk slightly lowered as she faced against a smarter opponent.

“So, Link, how high can you go?” Zelda teased.

“You wasted your last high card,” Link replied back with equal playfulness, throwing his ace into the pile. “See if you can beat that!”

Zelda huffed, throwing down her eight of spades. Link played his own seven of hearts, quickly gaining extra points.

“This isn’t fair!” Groose complained. “Why do I always get a terrible hand!”

Link rolled his eyes while Zelda merely giggled. “Goddesses Groose! If being a sore loser was a crime, you’d be put to the death,” she joked and gave Groose a playful punch in the arm.

Link wouldn’t normally find that joke funny, but it was Zelda, and it automatically sounded more hilarious coming from her mouth. She wasn’t the type to consistently make jokes, but occasionally, she made Link laugh out loud so hard his stomach ached hours later.

The scene stopped being funny as soon as Groose leaned back, straight into the blazing fire pit, his clothes catching on fire like fuel to a flame. The boy was suddenly embraced in flames, while Zelda let out another laugh, tears forming from her eyes like she had just seen the funniest thing in the world.

Link felt himself disconnect from the reality of the dream as soon as Groose let out a scream that only bokoblins sounded like right before they died. His body immediately charred black, just as fast as a monster’s would, still screaming until he turned into dust. Link dropped his cards in horror, just as Zelda reached over, clutching his arm.

_“It’s okay, Link,” she said, her hair and skin turned bleach white, her eyes glowed red. “This is what you wanted.”_

Link’s eyes snapped open, mind panicking as he felt pressure against his ribs. He took a gasping breath and reached for his sword, only stopping when he found the source of the weight on his side.

Meda was sleeping, resting her head underneath his right armpit, tucked in close to him. Link pressed his hand to his mouth, trying to calm the panicked breathing as quickly as possible, trying desperately not to wake her. He searched around the area, looking for Ghirahim and didn’t see him anywhere. He didn’t know whether he was happier to see him gone or not.

A new panic started to settle in as Link realized fully that a real-life person directly relied on him. Meda relied on him, and he was completely unprepared with how to deal with it. He hadn’t considered it much before, guilted too much by Tharin’s death. The man’s constant reminders now played over in his head.

_“Meda must be protected at all costs.”_

_“Protecting my daughter takes precedence over your desire for revenge.”_

He wanted to fulfill those wishes at the very least, more than anything else. He owed it to Tharin. And yet every small suggestion of killing had slowly grown from a small suggestion to a screaming demand in his brain. Despite knowing that it was just a dream, and that it wasn’t in his control, he _hated_ that a part of him enjoyed watching Groose burn to death in front of his eyes.

Even now, it would be so easy to just curl his arm around Meda’s neck and squeeze. She’d struggle a little, but no protest from her would stop him. _She was fragile, pathetic, purely an obstacle that he would have no benefit from protecting._

_STOP IT!_

Link tried as gently as possible to move Meda, so she rested against the tree behind them. He stood up, quivering restless energy bursting at the seams. The dark blade was resting right by the tree near him. He picked it up and walked a few feet away to get a good sense of familiarity with this new sword.

He performed a few moves, quickly realizing that this sword was in every way exactly like the Master Sword. The length, the grooves in the handle, the weight. All of it was utterly familiar as Link practiced moves through the air. Horizontal and vertical attacks, diagonal and curved. Feints and parries. He practiced them all, before letting out one final swing with as much force as he could muster.

He wasn’t quite paying attention to the sword itself when he made the final swing. He was more focused on his stance, technique, grip, and the strain of his muscles. He didn’t notice until it was too late, when the sword started to glow bright red and let out a black wave of energy on the final swing.

The black, crackling magic released from the blade, sent dirt flying everywhere, landing at a nearby tree and lifting it several feet into the air by its roots before it fell over with a loud thumping noise. Link widened his eyes in shock. A crater in the dirt had extended from his feet to what used to be an intact tree.

“Whoa,” Meda said, wide awake as she looked at the damage Link caused. “That was so cool!”

Link wasn’t impressed. The sword felt so normal otherwise that he hadn’t even realized what he’d done. It felt _nothing_ like performing a skyward strike. He didn’t even know what he did to cause his sword to create mass destruction. He could only be both terrified and relieved that he hadn’t aimed the attack in Meda’s direction.

“Can you do that again?” she asked, standing up and looking at the damage.

“No, Meda,” Link replied quickly. “Are you ready to get moving?”

Ghirahim teleported in front of him with a smirk. “You’ve only scratched the surface of what you can do with my sword, Link.”

Link’s face hardened. “I don’t care. The less I have to use it, the better.”

“Teacher says practice makes perfect,” Meda chimed in.

Link knew he shouldn’t get angry, but the idea that Meda, of all people, would be defending the likes of Ghirahim was rage-inducing. He was still trying to fight the fog, the foreign presence in his mind that kept butting its head into the forefront. It was getting more and more difficult to distinguish the foreign presence from himself.

Link grabbed Meda’s arm and shouted. _“Don’t take his side!”_

“You’re hurting me!” Meda shouted, looking terrified.

Link told himself to let her go. He put full intention on forcing his own fingers to release her arm. He did it. He knew. He had felt the loss of control from his body enough times now to know. He did it. It didn’t matter that the world felt like he was seeing through static. It didn’t matter that he felt like his limbs felt heavier than before. Meda reacted immediately by running away. Her blonde hair swinging as she raced as far away from him as far as she could. This was okay. Meda was okay.

Link blinked. And there was Meda in his grip again, still looking just as terrified.

She let out an unearthly, inhumanly powerful scream at him, nearly blasting his eardrums. He saw her features start to morph. Her face grew pale, her mouth stretched farther than any human could reach _. A rotting stench that reminded Link of monster bodies burning through the night reached his nostrils, and he instinctively pushed his sword forwards, gutting her in the stomach. It stopped the inhuman screeching noise immediately._

Link’s eyes snapped open, not fully aware, not realizing that he had kneeled to the ground, clutching his head in his hands until now. He looked around, terrified, relieved that there wasn’t Meda’s dead body in front of him. Yet he knew that her sudden disappearance wasn’t a good sign either. Ghirahim stood there, fully relaxed, as if everything was normal.

“You don’t owe the bastard Sheikah anything,” Ghirahim replied with disgust as he started to pace around him, waving his arms with emphasis. “Let alone the pointless responsibility of keeping his useless progeny alive. Sheikah die all the time. There’s a reason they must train all of their descendants to become warriors. The magic is in their blood and it attracts monsters like flies to honey.” Ghirahim leaned forwards with a smile. “They’re a species that should’ve just died out long ago.”

Link threw the sword in his hand with all his might. The dark blade clattered to the ground several feet away, as he slammed his hands to the ground with rage.

“I entertained you for as long as I could,” Link said with gritted teeth. It was a lie. He just had far more things to worry about besides Ghirahim. “But I’m done. This ends now. I don’t want to be your master! I want you to leave forever!”

Ghirahim remained stoic yet confident in his answer. “I can’t.”

“Tell me!” Link shouted. “As your master, how do I break the connection between us?”

“Death,” Ghirahim blurted out, the words were seemingly out of his control. “I do not know of any other way.”

“You left Demise!” Link said, trying desperately to think of a way to separate them. There had to be a way.

“Our connection weakened when Demise was at his last breath. I ran and felt the agony of my betrayal and the pain of his death,” Ghirahim replied coolly. “Every second of it, even as I escaped. I remained in the past, because it would take me hundreds of years to recover.” He walked forwards and offered the black blade to Link once more. “I swear to you I won’t ever do the same for you. I will never abandon you.”

Those words could have been reassuring, coming from any other person in the world. They had the opposite effect on Link. He wondered if there was a point in his life that he really messed up. A time when he took too much. Did he deserve this? Was this punishment for something he had done? This had to be hell. A living, waking nightmare.

Link held back the urge to cry as he realized how truly stuck he was with this monster. He stared at the sword, willing for it to disappear while his hand twitched, desperate to have its reassuring weight in his hands. _Focus. Remember what you’re supposed to be doing._ He grabbed the sword. The tension in his limbs disappeared with the reassuring weight of the sword in his grip.

“Is Meda still alive?” Link asked, trying not to think of how disgusted he was with himself for finding Ghirahim’s sword so comforting.

“She is.”

“Take me to her, quickly.”

Ghirahim nodded and held out his hand. Link blinked, realizing what he had to do. He bit his lip, gritted his teeth, and squeezed his eyes shut as he reached forwards and gripped Ghirahim’s hand.

They moved again, Link’s feet slammed down onto rocky ground as they appeared in front of a lone bokoblin, gripping on tight to Meda’s arm. She was struggling wildly, but to no avail. Link’s eyes widened as he rushed forwards only to stop dead in his tracts when the bokoblin noticed him and quickly pulled its knife to Meda’s throat.

The bokoblin stood there, stepping back cautiously while Meda struggled to step backwards and avoid the knife to her throat. Link’s mind raced at potential solutions. He really wished he had brought his bow and arrows for something like this.

_You don’t need a bow and arrow anymore._

Ghirahim still clutched his right hand, moving behind him, and slowly guided his hand up, palm facing outwards like a stop signal. The bokoblin looked confused as it took another step backwards.

“Concentrate,” Ghirahim whispered in his ear.

And then Link could feel it, almost like an extension of himself. A magic black dagger appeared in front of his hand and quickly soared through the air, piercing straight into the bokoblin’s forehead, killing it instantly. Meda screamed again just as the monster lowered the knife. She dashed out of the way as the dead bokoblin fell forwards onto the ground.

“Well done, Master.”

Link recoiled first, yanked his hand away, then nearly leapt away from Ghirahim’s embrace. He shuddered; the demon lord’s touches felt like bugs squirming under his skin. He put those reservations aside and rushed to Meda. It didn’t matter what he felt. She was more important.

“Meda! Are you okay?” Link said, kneeling down, checking for injuries. Thankfully the bokoblin’s knife hadn’t even left a mark on her throat. Meda let out a sniffle and nodded quietly.

“Are you hurt? What did the bokoblin do?”

Meda shook her head. “It grabbed me when I was running. I’m okay.”

Link let out a sigh of relief, before looking into her eyes. “I’m sorry Meda. I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that. That was wrong of me.” _You deserve better._

Meda quietly nodded again. “Link… Is Ghirahim really that bad?”

Link froze. He turned around glaring at Ghirahim with absolute hate. Ghirahim crossed his arms, unaffected by his master’s demeanor. The demon lord looked amused by the whole situation. “Yes, he is. Did he tell you anything different?”

Meda shook her head. “No. He hasn’t said anything. I just think you’ve just been really mean to him.”

Link turned back to her and grabbed her shoulder. “Meda. I want you to listen to me. Sometimes,” he paused, trying to find the words. “People are complex. Sometimes good people appear like bad people, and bad people can imitate good people.

“Now I’ve really tried to be strong for you,” Link began, voice strained. “And sometimes that means that I’m being mean to Ghirahim. Because if I let myself be weak, I can’t protect you from him. I know it looks like he’s just helping us, but the circumstances are not what they seem.”

He gave her a bitter smile. “When you’re older. I can explain this better, okay? Just know I’m not in the best situation right now, and I’m sorry that I’ve dragged you into it.”

Meda gave a short nod, still looking confused.

Link thought of the time when Wryna pulled him aside and told him, _‘If someone ever makes you feel uncomfortable in any way, you’ll tell me or Gaepora, or any other adult. Okay?_ ’ He had forgotten that moment. He had forgotten her advice. He had put it aside. After all, most people on Skyloft never made him feel that uncomfortable feeling that Wryna had described.

_‘Tell me or Gaepora, or any other adult…’_ He had contemplated telling Zelda, maybe even telling Gaepora what Ghirahim had done to him. But he wasn’t even close to ready to talk about what happened when he still needed to complete his mission with Fi. He had considered it again in the first month right after Demise’s defeat but had dismissed the thought very quickly. He had been so desperate to move on. Besides, he could barely remember all the details back then. What if they doubted him? What would telling them even solve?

He pressed a hand to Meda’s cheek. “You’re going to grow up and be better and stronger than me. You won’t even get close to ending up in the situation I’m in. Promise me that. If someone makes you feel unsafe, promise me you’ll tell someone. An adult, or someone who you can trust, okay? Because sometimes you’re going to have to look mean to everyone else when you do it, but it’s the right thing to do.”

Meda nodded again; her hands clutched together in a nervous grip.

“Promise?” Link asked, trying to be gentle with his words, but he needed to insist on this.

Meda nodded. “I promise.”

Link gave her a curt nod back. “C’mon. Let’s go see your aunt.”

It was late afternoon when Ghirahim had them nearly climbing up a cliffside. Link had to carry Meda on his back, and while the demon lord had been persistent to keep his sword near or on Link’s person at all times, he was willing to carry the sword until Link climbed to the top.

Link made sure to let Meda down as gently as possible, even as he panted for breath. Ghirahim merely teleported to the top, unphased and a bit impatient at how long Link took to climb to the top.

“Kakariko Village is right at the center,” Ghirahim gestured over the edge. Link got to his feet slowly and took the time to look around.

As they had reached closer and closer to the northern mountains surrounding Eldin Volcano, Ghirahim had guided them up to the top of what appeared to be a massive plateau. At the top, Link could see that the inside of the plateau was hollow, as if a massive crater had carved a deep hole through the rock. Inside the massive crater was a village, surrounded by tall rock walls. The walled village was surrounded by a large lake, making the only available entranceway by bridge. Link was immediately impressed by the level of security.

They were all facing the opposite wall from the bridge, but Link could spot a large gap in the plateau facing the bridge. He wanted to yell at Ghirahim for making it seem like climbing the plateau was the only option, but he knew that there were probably Sheikah warriors that traveled in and out of the gap. Walking around the plateau wasn’t an option.

Meda looked positively cheerful at seeing her home. “Auntie Cyrene makes this raisin bread that’s so good! I can’t wait! You have to try it!” She started hopping up and down.

Link gave her a small smile and tried not to think of how the rest of the Sheikah will take it, seeing him at their doorstep. If they fought him, he’d be forced to defend himself, but he was hoping that it wouldn’t come to that. He knew he would have to drop Meda off with whoever came to meet them first, and then he’d have to leave. However, he did have a plan, hopefully, if they didn’t fight first and ask questions later.

They walked across the plateau until the way down to the village was no longer too steep. As Link had hoped, at the bridge were two guards in front of a wooden gate as tall as the stone wall. They both wore tight leather armor, decorated blue with red eye symbols on their chests. They held spears taller than themselves, and smaller swords at their waists.

“Halt!” called the one Sheikah, spotting Link and Meda as they tried to keep their footing as they trekked down the hill. “Announce yourselves and your purpose for traveling these lands!”

Link opened his mouth to say something only for the guard to shout, “It’s him!”

The dark blade appeared in his hand in an instant as the guard charged him, spear at the ready. _Link roughly pushed Meda out of the way before ducking the attack and quickly slicing right through the armor._ _Link marveled at how easy it was for the sword to cut through people with ease. He had put no effort into it as the Sheikah’s chest bled profusely, collapsing to the ground._

“Meda!”

Link blinked, adrenaline still racing as the Sheikah who attacked him was now standing in his original position without any visible wounds. He stiffened up as Meda clutched his tunic. The two Sheikah walked up to him, spears pointing upwards and away from him.

“Meda, who is this? Where’s your father?” asked the one Sheikah, a woman’s voice. For Link, it was hard to tell considering she was just as thin yet toned as the male counterpart that _didn’t_ attack him.

“This is Link,” Meda announced. “He’s protecting me.”

Link realized that he probably should’ve asked Meda to give out a fake name. Too late now, he thought as the two Sheikah tensed, not quite angling their spears towards him, but still ready to attack if provoked.

“Tharin was killed,” Link explained, trying to push down the spike of guilt that clenched at his throat. “I promised to bring her to her aunt. I’m not planning to stay.”

“What!” Meda shouted, surprised. “No! I want you to stay!”

The two Sheikah looked at her with solemn faces. Link bit his lip. “Someday Meda, I’ll see if I can visit, or you can visit me. This is only goodbye for now.”

Meda started to cry again and shook her head. “No! No! No! I want you to stay!”

The female Sheikah kneeled in front of her and let out her hand. “Meda, remember your training.”

Meda visibly shook as tears ran down her face. “I don’t want to.”

“You know we all don’t have a choice,” she insisted.

That was enough to convince Meda as she reached out and grabbed the older Sheikah’s hand. Link let out a breath of relief as the little girl let go of his tunic and followed the woman as she walked over to the gate and knocked loudly on the wooden door.

“Eleutheros!” she called out, and the massive gate began to move upwards. The male Sheikah quickly swung his spear, pointing directly at Link, as the cold weight of the black blade suddenly fit into his hand once more.

The male Sheikah took a few steps back, careful to keep his wooden spear out of range from Link’s sword. He looked over at it, wondering if he was experiencing another hallucination again. No, the others didn’t feel real, but this one did.

The gates slowly lifted up as more Sheikah were revealed holding up bows and arrows aimed straight at Link. Meda turned around in shock, shouting, “Link!” before the woman holding her hand forcefully dragged her behind a wall full of Sheikah warriors.

Link remained stock still, and the rest of the Sheikah responded in kind. He was aware that one sudden movement would unleash a series of arrows and spears.

And then suddenly a middle-aged woman walked through the crowd of warriors, pushing her way through easily. She was dressed in baggy blue robes, and her white hair was flowed freely. Red paint in the shape of tears were decorated underneath her eyes. Following her were seven older women and men, all dressed in the same robes. Both the men and women’s hair were braided and bound, similar to how an older Impa wore hers.

“Lady Efhari,” greeted the Sheikah pointing his spear at Link as the woman walked up to them. “Be careful. He can materialize weapons at will.”

Link bit his lip before announcing his intentions. “I intend no harm against your village. I came to escort Meda to a safe place and to get information. I do not wish to stay here.”

Lady Efhari eyed him up and down, getting one good look at his sword before turning to the seven elders that had followed her up until the gate. They all kept a wary distance from Link.

“Is this him?” she called out. “Is this the man who you see in your visions?”

“Yes! It is the same,” one of the elders called out in fear, pointing her finger at him.

“He’s the one!” said another. “That sword is without a doubt the same weapon that will kill us all!”

“It’s him!” a few of the others chimed in as Link tensed.

“Liars!” shouted one of the old men. “You are all quick to accuse out of fear!” The accusation quickly silenced the group. “He may have similar features, but this is not the same man that we saw in our vision. The monster may look very similar to the chosen hero we see before us, but the monster had pure white hair and glowing red eyes. He clothed himself in all black to match his skin. This man _does not_ have those same features.”

“It only takes a simple spell to change those features,” argued another of the elders.

“But to what end?” the old man argued. “If it’s a disguise then it is laughable at best.”

“To throw us off of course! He knew that we would see our extinction!”

Lady Efhari lifted her hand and the elders all turned silent. She looked back at Link with suspicion, but what she said next surprised Link by her openness.

“What do you make of this, chosen hero?”

Link thought for a moment, not expecting to be allowed to defend himself. His defense would be weak at best. Considering how much the sword affected him so far, he had no idea what Ghirahim could drive him to do.

“You are right to be wary,” he acknowledged, then decided on being vague. “At this moment, I carry a curse. I still have my wits about me, but I don’t know how long I will have them.”

Efhari studied him with scrutinous eyes. “You sound like a man with quite the self-control. Curses are no small matter. I would expect nothing less from Hylia’s chosen hero.” She let out a sigh. “Understand that we all have found ourselves very conflicted by this premonition.”

Link tightened his fists. He was so terrible with words and he didn’t want to tell anyone outright what he was dealing with. Not when it felt far too painful to explain himself.

“What information are you seeking?” Efhari asked.

“Zelda’s wellbeing,” he announced immediately. “And then the direction that the monsters went when they kidnapped your children.”

Efhari raised an eyebrow at his demands but was quick to answer. “Zelda is well. Our people have done their very best to take care of her.”

Link nodded, not liking the vague answer. It sounded like a lie, but he was in no position to demand more details.

“You’re interested in rescuing the kidnapped children, then?” Efhari asked amusedly. “Why?”

Link paused before answering. “I made a promise to protect Meda. This is just an extension of fulfilling that promise.”

Efhari paused, considering Link’s answer before shouting, “Someone get me a map!” The Sheikah quickly obeyed, some dispersing from the crowd at the gate. The male Sheikah pointing his spear at Link looked at Efhari in surprise.

“Why tell him this, Lady Ef-”

“Do you see any harm in it?” she asked the Sheikah before he could finish.

A lone Sheikah carrying a rolled-up map rushed to Efhari. “Your map, Lady Efhari.”

“Thank you, Geth,” Efhari said as she unrolled the map before Link. “We’ve pinpointed the cave that the monsters take the children into. It’s a day’s worth of travel from here to here,” she pointed to a spot on the map north of the Eldin Volcano. “However, I cannot report what goes on in that cave or how long it extends. I’ve sent an army of our best warriors out to the cave and only one returned, nearly dead on our doorstep.”

“Understood,” Link stated. “Thank you. I’ll take my leave now.”

Efhari rolled up the map, eyebrow raised. “You’re still determined to seek them out on your own then?”

Link turned to leave the village, eyeing the looming peak of Eldin Volcano overhead. He just had to follow around it north. He could do this.

“If I die trying to save them, then that benefits you just as well,” Link answered dismissively.

He didn’t look to see Efhari’s response, but he could almost hear her murmur. “Glad we’re on the same page then.”


	12. Good Guys Against Bad Guys

The land around the Eldin Volcano was mostly barren, with jagged rocks and cliffs abound. Link grew more nervous as the terrain wasn’t the best for him to see fully, in case he ran into trouble. It didn’t help that he felt more alone now, with the last monster on earth he wanted to be near.

Ghirahim walked at a slow and casual pace, which meant that he would first teleport in front of Link, but slowly shamble behind him, which would make Link immediately tense and irritated. Teleporting in front of him again didn’t help.

After the third time Ghirahim did so, Link needed a distraction and decided it was time for an explanation.

“I’m seeing things that aren’t real,” Link announced. Ghirahim merely raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

Ghirahim paused, thinking for a moment, before speaking up. “Oh yes! I suppose that does happen when my master is human.”

Link crossed his arms and let out a glare. “You suppose that happens? How many human masters have you had before me?”

“Too many! You think I counted after thousands of years of servitude?” Ghirahim groaned, before giving Link a look of pure devotion. “They were all pathetic! They don’t hold a candle to you, Master. I’d kill every single one of them faster if it meant I would meet you even soon-”

“Stop!” Link commanded. He didn’t want to hear Ghirahim’s attempts to praise him. It only made him feel more disgusting than before. “I don’t care. I just don’t want to see visions of things that are not real.”

Ghirahim let out a laugh. “I can’t really control that now, could I?” When Link’s expectant face didn’t change, the demon lord went on. “So sometimes, I can get emotional…”

_What an understatement_ , Link thought immediately, remembering the various times Ghirahim had worked himself into an uncontrollable rage.

“And sometimes those emotions will spill over to you. Sometimes those emotions can affect people differently.”

Link hated that he had even considered doing this, but he couldn’t help but compare Fi and Ghirahim. They had some similarities, mostly their swords being almost exactly the same. Still, Fi never felt like a real presence in his mind like Ghirahim. The demon lord was a fog in his mind that flowed in and out, sometimes flickering between mostly negative emotions of boredom to anger to murderous intent.

The sword spirit Fi was very similar to an ancient robot, emotionally distant and fully motivated to perform a task. When Link remembered holding the Master Sword, he felt like his emotions were mostly in control and he could focus on the next objective. It became easy with her to push aside those feelings of fear when confronting monsters, traps, even Demise, himself. He wondered if Fi had been helping influence him in that way all along. 

Link climbed over a rocky cliffside, purposefully ignoring Ghirahim when he let out his hand to help him. Ghirahim merely crossed his arms in disappointment and kept moving. Link could feel that same level of frustration in his own head.

“You need to get control of your emotions,” Link declared. “I can’t do anything or go anywhere if I’m not able to distinguish your rage-driven hallucinations from reality.”

Ghirahim snapped around and stepped towards Link, looking all the more enraged. “You think…” he hissed, his voice getting exponentially louder with each word. “ _I haven’t…_ ” Ghirahim got even closer, and Link could feel the sudden wave of magical energy spark in the air around them. “ _TRIED THAT ALREADY!!!_ ”

Link sensed them before he heard them. He turned around, just as two Sheikah warriors, dressed in leather armor and white headwraps, began to lunge at him with scimitars. _Link swung his sword to block them, only to have his sword flash with red light. The magical attack sliced first Sheikah entirely through the middle and cut off the arm of the second warrior. Blood and entrails splattered across the ground._

_The second Sheikah let out a scream of agony as Link, driven by an uncontrollable rage, materialized a black dagger from his right hand. He walked forwards, amused by their insignia, wondering if he could really make their eyes bleed. He leaned forwards and stabbed the dagger straight through the Sheikah’s right eye._

Link snapped back into focus, nearly tripping and falling over as the world righted himself. He had to lean against the rocky mountain wall as he gathered his breath, desperately hoping that what had happened was just a vision. He didn’t do that. He didn’t kill those two. He had to reassure himself of that as he adjusted himself to the real world once more. 

“See, I told you, I tried,” Ghirahim said, arms crossed, looking peeved. 

“You didn’t try,” Link argued, biting his tongue and forcing himself to not let his own anger spill out. He ran the vision in his mind and then looked over at the demon lord as he realized something. “Are there really two Sheikah following us?”

Ghirahim nodded. “They were much farther away in the beginning, but they are getting closer.” The demon lord looked up at the sky. “My guess is that they are first going to wait for you to get ambushed by the eight lizalfos that heard our argument from several feet up the mountain and are now coming down to greet us.”

Link let out a sigh of frustration. “Yeah, I’m sure they heard _our_ argument,” he muttered, sending Ghirahim a glare. The demon lord ignored him.

“I can go kill the Sheikah for you,” Ghirahim offered. “You wouldn’t have to see them-”

“No,” Link snapped, as he heard the footfalls of the incoming monsters from above. “Help me kill the lizalfos.”

Link was ready, rolling out of the way as one leaped down at him, slamming its spiked tail downwards into the ground. Ghirahim sent a series of black daggers at the rest, forcing them to block the attack with their large iron gauntlets instead of attacking Link.

As the rest of them leapt down the mountain, the fight began as a flurry of swords, tails, claws, and daggers. Link had quickly performed a spin attack to cut through three of the monsters in half and managed to stab one in the chest before it could recover from falling over to avoid the deadly attack. Lizalfos were fast, making it much more of a challenge to kill, but Link remained calm, patient, and calculating. He dodged the swipe of claws and just barely managed to duck under a tail swing before he leapt backwards to gain some space. 

One of the lizalfos lunged forwards, jaws open and ready to tear through flesh. Link ducked under the attack but couldn’t avoid the claws swiping at his shoulder. Yet the maneuver allowed Link to get in close enough to stab the monster straight through the heart. Link turned and saw the other lizalfos had stayed distant long enough to suck in air and prepare a fire blast. Link raised his arm, casting another black dagger from his fingers and sent it flying, piercing through the exposed skin in the lizalfos’s mouth up into the brain. The monster fell over letting out a weak splutter of fire in its wake.

Link heard the squeal of a monster in pain and turned to Ghirahim, who had quickly killed one lizalfos with several daggers in its chest. The demon lord was currently straddling the monster, having cut off the arm attached to the iron gauntlet. He proceeded to cast an intricate magical noose around the lizalfos’s neck, holding it down so its jaw was aimed up at the sky, before grabbing its claw, laying it out on the ground, and driving a dagger straight through it the center of its palm.

Link was horrified at the scene, and quickly rushed forwards, stabbing his sword straight into the lizalfos’s forehead, quickly ending its cries of pain.

“What are you doing?” Link demanded, something in between shocked and enraged by Ghirahim. He always made a point of killing monsters as quickly as possible to avoid any unnecessary cruelty. He would _never_ do something like that to a monster. “I asked you to help me kill them. You weren’t supposed to torture the creature!”

Ghirahim, of course, appeared like a child that was more disappointed that he was caught rather than ashamed of his own actions. “I was having fun,” he pouted.

“Of course, you were,” Link muttered and let out another sigh before ordering, “No more torture.” He pressed a hand to his forehand, feeling ridiculous that he even had to spell it out to Ghirahim. Trying to control the demon lord was getting far too overwhelming.

“Your shoulder, it’s bleeding,” Ghirahim commented, as if fascinated by the relatively small amount of blood that stained his tunic.

“It’s fine, a shallow wound,” Link replied tersely. He watched Ghirahim get even closer and grew tense. “Stay away,” he reminded the demon lord, who snapped out of his reverie and gave Link a frown.

Link realized very quickly that he had been so afraid to keep Ghirahim away from Meda that he hadn’t even realized the other problems that came with trying to control the demon lord. He felt like he was being pulled from all sides, his skin torn apart by a thousand hooks. There were new rules he had to take into account that came with working with Ghirahim that he had to keep in mind in every new moment. _No talking, no touching, no torture. Keep emotions under control to prevent visions._ It was getting too much for Link to handle, and he only had to enforce these rules. He could sense that Ghirahim was getting antsy, more irritated for every second that he had to work under these limitations. 

“The two Sheikah?” Link asked, trying to get something for the demon lord to focus on.

Ghirahim let out his own frustrated groan. “They’re still the same distance away. Still following us. Cowards.”

“Don’t talk to them, don’t hurt them, don’t go near them,” Link ordered, trying to cover all his bases. Ghirahim sighed, disappointed by the order but unable to do anything but obey.

They kept walking as Link kept glancing at the sun and the location of Eldin Mountain to determine how close they were. They encountered more monsters, and so Link had an opportunity to practice using the glowing powerful blast on bokoblins, splitting a group of 6 of them in half. As they encountered archers, Link was able to cast a whole series of floating daggers and send them out in a line, taking out monster after monster before they could fire a single arrow at him.

Having Ghirahim’s powers at his command was disturbing overall. He was so used to fighting _against_ the same attacks that he was now using to his advantage, which meant he had to force himself not to flinch when he cast the first line of floating daggers. But there was a small part of Link that could see himself enjoying this. After going through temple after temple with nothing but a sword, shield, and a few specific tools, he knew that the sword he carried now would have made things so much easier.

_Except that same sword is what caused you problems in the first place._

Ghirahim said he had served humans before. Link wouldn’t blame them for wanting that type of power. He could see the temptation. That’s all it was though, a temptation. He would trade these powers away in a heartbeat. He’d trade nearly anything, if it meant Ghirahim the monster would no longer harm another living soul.

They finally reached a cave, having to kill a series of moblins and lizalfos along the way. Link let out a long breath amongst the dead bodies. He hadn’t had to kill so many since Ghirahim summoned an army to distract him while reviving Demise.

“Why are all these monsters here?” Link asked curiously as he wiped down his blade. He grimaced at the stains on his tunic and hoped they didn’t end up encountering any fire anytime soon. “Not even the temples had this many.”

Ghirahim shook his head. “The magic in the temples are old. All the old geezers that used to practice magic in their special sanctuaries have all died out. This cave is riddled with fresh new magic.” He lifted a hand up, testing the air. “Dark powerful magic. I can feel it. It’s like candy to monsters.”

“What does that mean?” Link asked, not finding Ghirahim’s answers very helpful.

“It means we’ll have quite the challenge ahead of us,” Ghirahim replied, although he seemed more excited than wary. “Whatever killed the Sheikah is not to be trifled with.”

Link looked around at the ground, searching through the dead moblin and lizalfos bodies before pulling an unlit torch out of a moblin’s belt. 

“What are you doing?” Ghirahim asked expectantly.

“I need a torch. I won’t be able to see in a cave that dark,” Link explained as he picked up stones, looking for one that would best make sparks.

“Here!”

Ghirahim walked forwards and shoved his hand in Link’s face, opening his palm to a diamond that glowed so bright it nearly burned through his eyeballs. Link’s reaction was to immediately close his eyes and swing his sword out. The sword connected with Ghirahim and Link could only describe the feeling as if he swung his sword through the thick sand floor of the Lanayru Desert. Cutting through whatever Ghirahim was felt like sandpaper on his bones. 

Ghirahim stepped back, looking miffed as the black blade left a corresponding black mark on his arm, but it healed so fast Link nearly missed it through the spots in his eyes.

“I was trying to help! A torch will set your clothes on fire,” Ghirahim argued, then grinned, his voice growing suggestive. “Unless you’re planning on taking your tunic off.”

Link rubbed his eyes and let out another frustrated sigh, trying to block out the nausea rising up his throat as soon as the demon lord made the suggestion. “No. Go ahead then. Just keep the light further away from my eyes.”

Ghirahim obeyed as they both entered the cave, holding the floating diamond just inches above his palm so it illuminated the cave. At first the mouth was wide enough for over ten people to enter the cave comfortably with space, but then narrowed out as the two of them walked deeper and deeper along a winding path through the cave. 

As they walked further and further, other things started to go wrong. Ghirahim’s light grew dimmer. The air started to feel thicker. The smell of the cave reminded Link distinctly of the bottom levels of the Ancient Cistern. He knew that only rotting, dead flesh could give off such a scent. Cobwebs formed along the walls and ceiling. Ghirahim shot out a dagger at a nearby baby skulltula climbing across the webbed ceiling. Link watched as it fell and died, legs twitching at his feet.

“Your friends…”

Link heard the voice like a whisper in his ear, seeing nothing in front of him, he spun around, seeing nothing behind him to match the voice.

“What kind of…”

“…People are they?”

The words echoed from different areas in the cave. Link snapped his head around looking wildly, only seeing nothing but baby skulltulas crawling up the walls.

“I wonder…”

“Do these people…” 

“…think of you… 

“…as a friend?”

“What are you doing?” Ghirahim snapped, turning around when Link started to swivel around like a madman, searching for the voice.

“Didn’t you hear that?” Link asked. He swung his sword to cut through a baby skulltula before it could leap onto him. He didn’t try to think of Zelda or Groose, people in his life he used to consider his friends. Groose no longer considered him a friend, although if he ever did was debatable. Did Zelda even think of him that way anymore?

“All I hear is the sounds of little skulltulas,” Ghirahim replied, irritated. “And I can feel your emotions going amok. Kind of hypocritical of you to tell me to calm down when you can’t even control yourself.”

“Never mind,” Link merely responded. He didn’t want to argue with Ghirahim, and he certainly didn’t want to trigger another vision. “Keep going.”

They killed enough baby skulltulas to piss off the mother, as one large skulltula after another crawled out of the shadows, letting out a screech of rage, spitting web at them, and trying to leap, fangs exposed to bite. Link was used to knocking their hard shells with enough force to spin them around and stab their weak point. 

With Ghirahim’s sword, he didn’t even need to do that. The sword merely cut right through their hard shells with ease. Ghirahim looked bored as he sent more daggers flying their way, piercing them straight through their heads. The demon lord kicked the dead bodies aside, clearing a path for them.

“What makes you happy?”

Link heard the voice again. It was unidentifiable, indistinguishable from any other voice he heard in his life. There was no recognizable accent to it, nor any voice it reminded of. It sounded like the voice of a child. He couldn’t quite tell if it was a girl’s or young boy’s voice.

“I wonder…”

“What makes you happy…”

“Does it make…”

“…Others happy, too?”

Link sliced through the fleshy body of the skulltula. For less than a second, Ghirahim’s hunched form in the Fire Sanctuary, injured and screaming before he teleported away flashed before Link’s eyes. The room then grew dark. Link flinched as the splash of black oily blood from the skulltula splattered across his face. He wiped at his chin in disgust, his hands feeling just as wet. It was too dark.

“What happened to the light?” Link demanded. The glow at Ghirahim’s hand barely illuminated the cave. The glowing mushrooms of the Skyview temple could’ve done a better job of lighting the way.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Ghirahim ranted, voice getting angry. He spun around, glaring at Link. “I’m a bit distracted with killing a nest full of skulltulas. I have to fight against a very powerful curse of darkness in this cave, and to top it all off, your emotions are going haywire!”

Link huffed. “We should’ve just brought a torch.”

Ghirahim gave him a look over with absolute skepticism. “I doubt that would’ve ended in your favor.”

“I wouldn’t look like this if you did your job and lit up the cave like you promised you would,” Link snapped, getting more and more aggravated by the demon lord’s jibes. 

Ghirahim turned to face Link as the light in his hand flickered and flashed, lighting up the room in a flash before fading back into the oppressive darkness. The light revealed parts of the cave that Link didn’t see before, including the collection of skulls and bones along the cave floor, and then the three stalfos stepped towards them.

“Happy now?” Ghirahim hissed.

“Stalfos behind you,” Link warned. He said the words just in time as Ghirahim spun and caught the large sword that the nearest stalfos had swung at him. 

The cave was far too narrow and awkward for them to fight the stalfos comfortably without dealing with them in a straight line. Link decidedly leaped, hopping off the side wall to move past the stalfos that had attacked Ghirahim and went for the other two behind the first. He pulled off another spin attack, sword lighting up with red light as he cleaved through metal and bone in front and behind him. 

Two of the stalfos collapsed to pieces, leaving the last one to charge and swing at Link. Before Link could bring up his sword to defend him, Ghirahim had leaped right over him, the demon lord’s own sword knocking the stalfos’s weapon away and slamming right into the monster head on, bones scattering everywhere on impact.

Ghirahim turned to him, grinning proudly. Link knew why, and it was the one thing he didn’t want to admit since they started working together. 

_“The right thing…”_

_“What is it?”_

Link’s eyes narrowed. What the hell was going on? Ghirahim wasn’t talking to him, but it had to be him. He slammed his elbow into the demon lord’s neck and shoved him against the cave wall. The light from Ghirahim’s hand went out, leaving only the dim glow of his pale white skin and clothes as the only illumination in the cave.

_“I wonder…”_

“Stop it!” Link shouted. 

_“If you do the right thing…”_

“Just stop! Whatever you’re doing!”

_“Does it make…”_

“I’m not doing anything,” Ghirahim replied, looking surprised, hands raised up. 

_“Everybody…”_

Link grabbed the strap to Ghirahim’s clothes, pulling him forwards and slamming him against the cave wall again. Pebbles from the ceiling rained down on them from the force of it. “Stop lying to me!”

_“…Happy?”_

Ghirahim moved his hands and Link instinctively stabbed through his core without even thinking. The demon lord didn’t react to Link’s retaliation at all. In the thickening darkness, a hand gripped Link’s arm and the other clutched his head and hair in a tight grip. In one fell swoop, Link was lifted off the ground and slammed to the ground, rocks and bones poking against his back. Link tried to pull the sword out of Ghirahim’s core but didn’t have enough leverage to move as the demon lord leaned over him. 

“I’ve been particularly hands off with your mental state, as requested,” Ghirahim growled. “But clearly that was a mistake.”

The hand that clutched Link’s hair started to glow white, lighting up the cave as Link got another full glimpse of Ghirahim’s angered face. There was pressure in his head, like it was being forced through a tube. His brain felt like it was on fire, extending from his temples, behind his eyes, and even radiating to his jaw. 

Stop!” Link shouted, and the pain and pressure ceased. Ghirahim moved his hand away from Link’s forehead, looking shocked, eyes wide.

“You’re not supposed to…” the demon lord began. “No! I changed you! I made you better!”

Link grabbed a rock and smashed it across Ghirahim’s jaw, the force pushing the demon lord to the side. He quickly rolled over, hands desperately looking for purchase. He felt the handle of one of the stalfos’s blades and grabbed it immediately. He turned around to see Ghirahim pull the sword out of his chest.

“Stay exactly where you are,” Link gasped, pointing the rusty blade at him. “Don’t you dare move.”

Ghirahim looked up at him, kneeling at his feet. “I did it because I love you, Link. Our first meeting together. You have this idea in your head that I was trying to hurt you, but you have to see it from my perspective. I-”

Link slammed the flat part of the blade against Ghirahim’s face before he could finish, the force knocking him to the ground. He leaned forwards and proceeded to grab Ghirahim’s hair and rub his face into the rocky floor. “You did this to me because you love power, Ghirahim,” Link snarled. “Not because you love me.”

Link ran the stalfos’s sword straight through Ghirahim’s core. He could feel the sharp stabbing pain himself, like a piece of himself flaring to life from the sudden instance of pain. The pain didn’t stop him for a second. Ghirahim let out a grunt of pain but remained exactly where he was as ordered. 

Link felt so numb that whatever pain and aches that flowed through his body felt so far away from him. He felt he had bathed and consumed all of Skyloft’s potion shop numbing powders. He felt out in the darkness, hand scraping against the wall, and his skin was more armor than sensation. He started moving forwards, leaving Ghirahim in his agony.

The black blade started to glow a red light, turning Ghirahim a shade of red, but making the rest of the cave look darker than ever.

“Take my sword, Link,” Ghirahim demanded with a desperation he’d only heard once before while in the process of sacrificing Zelda to Demise. “Take it! You have to take my sword!”

“Why should I?” Link said, back turned away from him. He looked over at it on the ground, resisting the instinct to pick it up.

“You’ll die without it,” Ghirahim gasped for breath. He looked pathetic, lying on the ground even as he begged for Link to live. “You won’t survive.”

Link stared at the sword. Swords used to mean safety for him. He had dedicated endless hours and sleepless nights to push himself to his very limits to master the Goddess sword. He saved the world with that sword, and then was forced to mourn the loss of that same sword that gave him comfort. Now a similar weapon that he thought he could always rely on was left twisted, forever binding him to his rapist. He used to regard it as an extension of himself and now it turned against him. The betrayal stung like a bitter poison weaving through his bloodstream.

“Maybe this is my fate,” Link said, barely a whisper. “Why fight it?” Ghirahim admitted that death was the only way to free himself from their bond. That’s all he could hope for. All he could wish for at the moment. He just wanted to be free of the demon lord.

Link kept walking, running his hands against the cave walls. Whatever monster decided to come next, he could only hope that it killed him quickly.

“There are still Sheikah children that are alive in this cave!” Ghirahim shouted, fists slammed against the ground. “Are you that selfish to let them die with you?”

Link stopped; body frozen. Ghirahim had to be lying. He had to be. Why would monsters keep them alive this long, this deep into a dark cave?

“You’re lying,” Link let out a whimper. Ghirahim knew exactly what would get him to stop. He knew exactly how to make him feel more guilty than ever. 

“I’m not,” Ghirahim replied with full confidence. “I can sense them. They’re still alive, but they’ll die if we don’t kill the monster keeping them here.”

“What would monsters want with Sheikah children?” Link demanded as he turned around, facing the red glow of the black blade lying on the ground between them. “Stalfos, moblins, bokoblins. None of them would keep humans alive for long.”

Ghirahim gave a weak smile. “No, but Majora relishes off the suffering of children.”

“Who?”

Ghirahim let out a sigh, body shaking as he endured the pain of remaining in place with the sword through his chest. “I didn’t know until now. Not until it started to talk to you. Why it spoke to you, I haven’t a clue. It clearly wants you dead.” The demon lord looked up. “Will you let them die with you?”

_No_. But Link couldn’t say that aloud. He didn’t have to. He pushed down the panic, the revulsion of having to deal with Ghirahim once more and walked over to grab the black blade, still glowing red in the dark cave. He picked the sword up, the familiarity and comfort of the handle filled him with guilt. Ghirahim gave a look of relief.

“I will always be here,” Ghirahim whispered. “When you need me.”

Link avoided the demon lord’s face and quickly turned around, facing the impending doom of the rest of the cave. _I don’t need you. I don’t want you._ He let go of his hope for this to end and gritted his teeth and moved onwards into the darkness, the helplessness and desperation still nagging him in the back of his mind. However, he couldn’t fail, certainly not to just save himself. He wouldn’t sacrifice anyone else for his own sake.

Link walked further through the dark cave, the red light of his sword illuminating the path. The bones along the floor grew more numerous. He stumbled across human and bokoblin bones alike, the variety of them mixing along the path until Link was stepping over piles of them. He had to concentrate on making his footsteps carefully enough to keep his balance as he walked through the dark cave, sword glowing red light along the bone covered floor.

“Your true face…”

“What kind of…”

“...Face is it?”

Link tried to focus this time, really listen to the voice speaking. He knew it would ask him something that would cut deep, but he only focused on the voice and its location, going further and further into the cave rather than from Ghirahim’s location closer to the exit. The voice was child-like, almost innocent in a way that the demon lord’s never was.

“I wonder…”

“The face under the mask…”

“Is that…”

“...Your true face?”

Link felt the cave wall extend out and suddenly he was looking into a dark abyss. He glanced at the ceiling and saw it extend into nothingness. The cave had expanded into an immense room, yet the layer of bones beneath his feet had only grown thicker.

He held up the glowing red sword, trying to gather any information he could through the darkness. He could follow the wall, but his patience had ended, and he really didn’t want to prolong the encounter anymore. He’d rather get a good view of whatever lived in the cave and destroy it quickly rather than leave himself cornered.

Soon enough, only a few feet away, yellow eyes opened in the darkness, lighting up the massive chamber in faint light. The yellow eyes were attached to the chest portion of a humanoid shaped body. The head rose up as the glowing electric blue eyeball blinked open. The body was covered in dark purple tribal tattoos, and spikes surrounded its shoulders. Link immediately took note of its arms, which didn’t end in hands, but extended out three times the length of the monster’s height, in reddened fleshy tentacles. 

The monster opened its mouth just below the glowing eye on top of its head and screeched. The air grew thin, pulsating with magic, as waves of purple gas surrounded the entire chamber. Link instinctively put his right elbow to his mouth to avoid breathing in whatever cursed air the monster released. Yet he didn’t feel the urge to cough. The sword in his left started to vibrate and he gripped it even tighter.

Link could sense it. This had to be the Majora that Ghirahim was talking about. Majora was like nothing he had ever seen before. He was certain that whatever magic was released into the cavern would have either killed him or done something just as terrible without Ghirahim’s protection. 

Link could see Majora lift its appendage and anticipated the blow before it even came. He lunged out of the way, just as the tentacle whip smacked down on the floor behind him, shattering a good layer of bones to pieces. Link rolled out of the way, trying to ignore the jutting bones against his back before he stumbled to his feet. Majora’s other tentacle arm lashed out, as Link swung his glowing sword, slicing right through the appendage. The separated limb was still flung forwards in its momentum, knocking him in the shoulder and pushing him to the ground.

Link grunted in disgust as he pushed the squirming limb away from him, quickly getting to his feet as Majora shrieked once more. Its top eyeball started to glow with bright light, bringing the entire massive cavern filled with bones into full view, before the bright electric light formed a ball and was hurdling Link’s way.

Link readied his sword and swung, sword connecting with the magical attack and quickly reflecting it back at Majora. The bright light moved back into the monster’s chest, knocking it against the cavern wall. The earth trembled and shook. Link glanced up and quickly avoided the rainfall of rocks falling down from the ceiling. He stumbled in the process; footing lost as every step he took landed on piles of bones. 

Majora switched tactics and charged at Link, fully running up to him and sending a kick in his direction with its long lean legs that were three times Link’s height. Link only barely moved to the side to avoid the attack, and quickly dodged again as Majora tried to stomp on him like an annoying bug. 

The familiarity between his fight with the Imprisoned and Majora grew, and on instinct he avoided Majora’s feet, quickly getting his own attacks in with his sword, leaving large bloody gashes in the monster’s legs. 

Unfortunately, Link didn’t notice until the last second that Majora could regenerate limbs. Another tentacle appendage reached out from his arm, this time wrapping tightly around his body, crushing all the air out of his lungs. Link forced himself to ignore the snap of his ribs, the influx of a familiar pain throughout his chest, as he cast a vertical line of daggers that he sent straight to Majora’s chest and eye. Majora quickly blocked his eye with one arm before Link was lifted off the ground and flung across the room.

Link landed roughly against the other side of the cave, gasping for breath. Agony shot through his left side and he glanced over his shoulder, seeing a jagged piece of bone embedded just underneath his rib. He ignored the convulsions that came with every movement as he twisted around to yank the broken piece of bone out, throwing it away before getting to his feet again. He lifted his sword to try and block as Majora threw another tentacle his way, but he was too late. He was going to get hit again.

There was the snap of Ghirahim appearing in front of him, diamonds stopping Majora’s appendage in the air.

Ghirahim merely smiled, hands pressed together as his hands glowed a light blue. “Hello Majora,” he greeted the monster calmly. “Long time no see.”

Majora let out another screech that shook the cave walls. Ghirahim gave a chuckle. Link couldn’t help but be shocked by the situation. Watching the two monsters greet each other like old friends felt too unreal.

“I know you didn’t expect it,” Ghirahim explained casually. “But I’ve reformed. Haven’t you heard?”

An electric blue light started to surround Majora. Link watched as a wave of light surrounded his own sword, lighting up the cave even brighter. The sword started to vibrate with uncontrollable energy.

“As much as I’d like to experiment and see if you can actually die,” Ghirahim went on with an oddly cheerful disposition. “I have better things to do now. Goodbye Majora. Enjoy causing as much suffering as possible in the next realm.”

Ghirahim then stepped aside as Link felt the urge to release all of that energy on its target. He barely made a stabbing motion that jarred his ribs, but it was enough to send more light shooting forth straight into Majora’s chest. The humanoid monster let one last screech out before disappearing into the blue light. Only after a few moments the light began to fade, and Majora was gone.

The blue light faded, along with Majora’s yellow glow, leaving the cave in nearly complete darkness once more. Only Ghirahim’s glowing diamond lit the empty black space once more. The demon lord gave him a worried once over.

“You’re injured,” Ghirahim commented. “Those Sheikah have entered the cave. They’ve come with a larger party, at least eight of them. They’ll arrive here soon. I can defend you-”

“Let them go,” Link interrupted. “Don’t hurt them.” He felt so apathetic about the whole situation. He didn’t care anymore if the Sheikah decided to kill him. Majora was gone, and his task was complete. The children were…

“Where are the children?” Link asked, looking around, seeing nothing beyond the faint light of Ghirahim’s floating diamond.

Ghirahim pursed his lips, looking conflicted. “We should hide then and let them find them themselves.”

“Where are they?” Link demanded, voice wavering as he grew impatient.

His ribs were probably broken, and he could feel wet blood run down his hip. Link had developed an exceptionally high pain tolerance in the last year. He was used to receiving stab wounds and gashes from all manner of weapons, but he still hated broken bones with a passion. Link could only reconcile that this wasn’t as bad as when he broke his left wrist climbing around Sky Keep. The trip out of the final dungeon to grab more red potions was shorter than most, but still more painful than he was ever used to.

Ghirahim remained silent and with a short pause, moved his glowing diamond out towards the cave wall where Link could see an opening into a deeper part of the cave. Link followed it, trying to breath shallowly to avoid any undue pain in his ribs. He nearly slipped as he stepped on a skull that slid underneath his foot and winced as pain shot through him before entering the small crevasse into a smaller area in the cave.

Link spotted more skulltulas right away, and made half-hearted swings as his sword flashed red, cutting through them with very little effort. He looked around the smaller section of the cave. It was filled with another section of spiderwebs covering the walls and ceiling. There were several lumps on the ground of spun webbing. Link spotted a small boot in one of the lumps of webbing.

“No,” he whispered.

He rushed forwards, immediately casting a black knife in his hands and delicately cut through the first clump of webbing, pulling off sticky chunks and ignoring them as they stuck to his hands. After tearing through the webbing, he spotted the pale face of a child with blonde hair, skin as cold as death.

“No, no, no, no,” Link gasped out as he pulled webbing away to reveal the child’s neck and took his pulse. He felt nothing beyond cold dead skin. He didn’t think about this child’s death. He couldn’t. He simply pushed the body aside and tried to remove webbing from the next one.

His fingers searched for a pulse, and he found it, faintly once more, like Pipit’s pulse while he was dying in the deep woods. Link let out a gasp, struggling to suck in air as he tried to remove spiderwebbing from the girl’s nose and mouth first before uncovering the webbing around her face.

He moved onto the next child, and found him alive, just barely, like the girl. However, the next one was after dead. Link had to use his knife to scrape away the webbing from his bare hands before his right fingers could become glued together. He moved onto the next body, pulling away the webbing, only to find another dead.

Link’s hands started to shake so much that the knife cut through the next child’s cheek. Blood welled and ran down his face as Link felt for a pulse. No signs of life. Still, Link couldn’t help but open his mouth.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

The words came out like a whimper. Link kept moving, pulling more children out of their spiderweb prison as he said those words. He struggled to breathe. His face was soaking wet and snot was dribbling from his nose, but he didn’t know why, didn’t dare acknowledge it. He couldn’t afford to stop and take a break to realize what he was feeling.

“Master,” Ghirahim warned, standing beside him, looking more irritated than anything.

Link ignored him, feeling far too distraught that he didn’t even notice the flicker of a torch behind him. He felt a hand at his shoulder. Link quickly spun around, knife pointed out and ready to attack.

“I told you not to-!”

The Sheikan man stepped back, along with the six others behind him. They drew swords, readied spears, and even one was quick to pull out his kunai blades. The Sheikah that touched him merely held his hands up.

“We mean you no harm, hero,” said the man, calm but suspicious as Link didn’t lower his guard. “We’re here for the children. Step aside. You’ve done your part.”

Link took a gasping breath, hand shaking as he slowly lowered the knife and obeyed, stumbling backwards against the cave wall. His legs nearly gave out. He felt so numb, so frozen to the spot, unable to process what was happening around him. He let out a shuddering breath that sent spikes of pain through his ribs and watched the Sheikah begin to gently carry the children out of the cave, their faces solemn and haunted looking.

Ghirahim was suddenly standing in front of him, and Link could only tense up as the demon lord grabbed him underneath his shoulder before ripping away the spiderwebs from his hands. He heard the snap from Ghirahim’s fingers and then felt his stomach drop as his feet lifted off the ground and the world began to blur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you all may have figured, there's quite a few references to Ocarina of Time (My first LOZ game). I needed to add a Majora's Mask reference to this list, just because the Moon children's words always struck me as something that needed to be more deeply explored.
> 
> Thanks to everyone being patient with me on this story. This was a much longer chapter to write and so I ended up needing a bit more time to work on it. This might be the case for the next few chapters as well (I have another really long one planned). Sending love to all the people who've enjoyed this fic and especially to all the people leaving wonderful comments!


	13. Zelda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close to the ending I have in mind. It's not entirely written yet, but still planned for soon. That being said, I added a new tag that's been heavily implied otherwise up to this point. I don't try to hide problematic tags and this is definitely a problematic one. Please be safe with your mental health when reading dark fics like this.
> 
> USA, National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255  
> USA, National Suicide Hotline: 1-800-784-2433  
> USA, The Trevor Project: 1-866-488-7386  
> USA, Trans Lifeline: 1-877-565-8860  
> Canada, Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-833-456-4566  
> UK, the Samaritans: 116123  
> Australia, Lifeline Australia: 131114

When the world stopped spinning for Link, he thought there was nothing more that could shock him. He was immediately abolished of that notion as soon as he saw where Ghirahim had teleported him. He was dropped off at the Sealed Grounds, in the building where Impa resided, but the old woman hadn’t appeared in her usual resting spot. Link realized that he was sitting on the stairwell leading up to what used to be the old Time Gate, now closed off, and quickly wrapped his arms around knees. He shivered despite the light of the morning sun beaming down on him.

The birds chirped; the grass glistened with morning dew. Link took a shuddering breath, unable to reason with why Ghirahim dropped him off here. Teleporting him to this peaceful place like this didn’t seem to help him break out of whatever combination of mental fog and trauma that he felt trapped in. He could only feel relief that at least… _at least_ , Ghirahim was nowhere to be found.

Link heard footsteps behind him, immediately tensing up, clutching his knees. _Oh goddesses, he didn’t have his sword._ And then Zelda walked gracefully into his vision without warning, and then he uncurled himself immediately.

“Zelda?”

Zelda gave him a smile, dressed in her white ceremonial dress. She walked up to him smiling, her serene face had an instant calming effect on him. He was so _damn_ relieved to see her he could almost cry. It was everything he wanted after all the events that worn down on what little sanity he had left.

“What are you… we…” Link struggled for words, his mind still not processing what was going on.

Zelda kneeled down to his level in front of him. “Don’t worry about that now.” She reached forwards and caressed her hand through his hair. “You know that I love you, right?”

Link paused, because they had been the best of friends ever since his father disappeared. When he was forced to move all his things into one of the many lodgings in the Knight’s Academy and learned to fend for himself among the trainees, Zelda had always been there. She had barged into his room, excited to finally have someone her age to play board games with while her father was busy and had remained a permanent fixture in his life ever since. Of course, he knew that Zelda loved him.

But there was an underlying meaning to her words, tinted with the request of something more. She followed by gently weaving her fingers into his, leaning forwards, and kissing him straight on the lips.

There were plenty of times when Link had considered both him and Zelda together as lovers, especially back in those moments growing up in his early teenage years. More often than not, there were times when he imagined them as lovers in his old age, sharing a home for themselves, having children, and finally getting the home that he always wanted. He held himself back from doing so, enjoying, languishing in their close friendship. He really wasn’t sure if he was ready for their relationship to be taken to that next level, and he had seen exactly how desperately Groose had pursed her.

Link wasn’t an expert in romance, but he knew the moment Groose had outright demanded that Zelda be his girlfriend, and she had adamantly responded back with “I am not anyone’s girlfriend, _and I definitely won’t be yours_!” Link learned one lesson that day; _don’t be like Groose._

So, when Zelda kissed him, Link could feel those wishful dreams unearthed and unlocked from a long-abandoned box in the back of his mind. He hadn’t considered this in so long. His mission had forced Link to cast those dreams aside. Ghirahim had made him forget.

_Don’t think about him. Don’t think about him._

Besides, Ghirahim had never kissed him, never treated him as gently and sweetly as this. Zelda gave him a few shy pecks, smiling as if she knew a secret that he didn’t. It wasn’t until she slid her hands over his wrists that Link pulled back, face hardened, teeth grinding, swallowing away the sudden spike of nausea.

“What’s wrong?” Zelda asked as her smile faded, concern visible on her face.

Link shivered. He had to do this. She needed to know. He had avoided telling her this whole time, wanting it to go away, but that never seemed to work. She had to know why he couldn’t give her this.

“Zelda, I…” Link stopped as a lump formed in his throat. His body grew hot and his vision blurred for a moment. “I need to tell you something.”

Zelda blinked, looking at him with confusion. “I’m listening.”

“When I…” Link paused again, because he couldn’t even believe he was doing this. He should make up an excuse. Say something else. _No_. She needed to know. He needed to tell her.

“When I followed you to…” Link said and paused again. Why was this so hard? He felt like his whole body was rejecting him as he tried to drag the words out. “When I followed you to the Skyview Temple. G-Ghirahim was there.”

Link took a deep breath. He felt like he was suffocating. “We fought, and I… well I wasn’t able to defend myself like I can now, and he… He… o-overpowered me.”

Zelda’s face remained completely blank, an unreadable yet discerning look. Link’s mind kept screaming at him to stop.

“I tried to fight back. I really tried, but he…” Link swallowed, forcing the words out. “He touched me i-in… and now I can’t… I can’t…” _I can’t give_ _you what you want._

Zelda gave him look of pure confusion. “Do you want him?”

The question was so jarring it gave Link mental whiplash. “No! Of course, I don’t!”

“Then why even bring it up?” Zelda asked, looking more irritated than anything, and it sent this horrifying feeling straight through Link’s gut. “Why are you so focused on this? It happened ages ago. Do you want him, or do you want me, Link?”

Those words coming from Zelda’s mouth might have broken him, they stung so harshly that he didn’t even know how to respond, and yet he managed to piece the wording together and knew something was wrong. Zelda had openly shared her experience trying desperately to escape from Ghirahim, from hordes of monsters, from dark forces everywhere she went on the surface. She would _never_ dismiss it because it ‘ _happened ages ago_ ’.

Link lurched back, nearly stumbling over the steps as he stood up and gained some distance from her.

“You’re not Zelda,” he blurted out in realization.

Link blinked and saw the static that filled the room. This dark version of Zelda stood up; the color drained from her entire person. Her hair was as pale white as her dress. Her skin was dark and ashy colored. Her tan sandals and bracelets were pitch black. She put on a frustrated look.

“You just had to ruin it, didn’t you?” Not-Zelda sneered, and despite the shape of her features being exactly the same, the look was something Link had never seen on the real Zelda. “I could give you everything you ever desired and yet somehow you turn this against me once more!”

Link glared, realizing the ruse he had been put so blatantly under. “This is a vision of yours, isn’t it Ghirahim? _End this right now_.”

Not-Zelda snapped her fingers in the exact same way that Ghirahim had, and the world flashed white. Within seconds, Link was standing back outside from the cave, several feet above on a cliffside overlooking the entrance. It was early evening, the sun barely touching the horizon out from behind Eldin Volcano. Ghirahim stood a few feet away, next to two bleeding and dead Sheikan bodies.

Link wanted to scream at Ghirahim for the sick and twisted vision-fantasy that the demon lord pushed him to but seeing more of the trail of dead bodies made his gut clench. The sudden stabbing pain in his broken rib and the wet sharp pain in his side forced him to hold back.

“I ordered you not to harm the Sheikah,” Link said, his voice feeling shattered, utterly broken.

He felt like he was on the edge of a cliffside, ready to plunge into madness. He couldn’t lose hope. He couldn’t let Ghirahim get to him. His own emotional state was not as important as the rest of the world. It was a constantly failing battle that left him feeling hollow and broken, but to give up now would only makes things worse.

“That order is rescinded as soon as they threaten to harm you,” Ghirahim snapped back. “Protecting my master comes first.”

“Bullshit,” Link spat. “You had no problem teleporting me away. You had no problem sending me all these confusing visions. You couldn’t do the same to them?”

“They were going to hunt you down no matter what,” Ghirahim replied with disdain. “You would’ve had to kill them to defend yourself eventually. I simply took less steps than you to get to that point.”

Link turned around, tired of arguing this point with Ghirahim and sickened by the sight of him. “Goddesses, you really are the most despicable creature.”

Through their connection, Link could feel how frustrated the demon lord was by those words. Ghirahim had been frustrated for a while into their partnership. Link knew why and felt some semblance of satisfaction for it. It was the only glimmer of light he could find in this hellish nightmare.

“I have obeyed all your orders!” Ghirahim shouted. “I have offered you everything I can think of! I have saved your life multiple times now! I have been nothing but loyal, supporting every one of your childish whims.”

“What do you expect me to do, Ghirahim? Thank you for trapping me like this? Forced to endure your constant desire to kill people? Just because I got to order you around doesn’t mean I’ll eventually like you.” Link turned around again, looking at Ghirahim with pure hatred and disgust. “And disguising yourself as Zelda to fulfill your own pathetic fantasy won’t get me to love you either. _Don’t ever do that again_.”

Ghirahim pursed his lips, ready to argue more, only to freeze in his tracks. “Another Sheikah is approaching.”

Link turned around, and suddenly the black sword was in his hand once more, quickly appearing at will. The Sheikah was a young girl in her late teens, dressed in a blue garb with simple leather armor. Her blonde hair swung around in a long braid extending down her back as she climbed up to meet them. She carried a large pack on her back and a sword on her belt but didn’t make any moves to draw the weapon. Instead, just as she spotted the two dead bodies of her brethren, she lifted up her hands in surrender.

“I swear upon the goddesses I mean you no harm, hero. I was sent here by Lady Efhari and Seer Sahasrahla,” she explained. “We need your help.”

Link froze, knowing how much Majora and seeing all those dead kids had taken out of him, he desperately wanted to turn her down. He felt so tired just thinking about it.

Seeing Link’s nonverbal reaction, the girl went on. “Lady Efhari believed that you would want to personally handle this-”

“You can tell Lady Efhari that even I have my limits,” Link explained, trying to be kind, but knowing he was failing. He didn’t have the energy to turn her down gently. “I can’t keep fighting for her and fight against her people at the same-”

“The Goddess Hylia has been inconsolable,” the girl interrupted. “She has placed magic barriers around our great library and locked herself in for over a week now and allowed no one else to enter.”

Link froze, mind racing. What happened? Why did she lock herself away? He couldn’t help but think of when she locked herself in a golden prison to avoid Demise several months ago. Was she in danger again?

Ghirahim let out a chuckle. “Oh, this is just perfect. The Sheikah will try to kill us to save themselves but will desperately lay down their lives in a heartbeat for their precious Goddess. What hypocrites!”

Link tightened his fists. “Shut it, Ghirahim,” he ordered, and the demon lord grew silent.

The girl looked nervously at the interaction between Ghirahim and Link before going on. “We have tried everything we can to reason with her, but she won’t listen, and she won’t allow anyone to help her. We all fear for her health.”

If there was anything Link learned from Ghirahim’s visions, it was that he desperately wanted nothing more than to see his best friend again. The fact that Zelda needed help also made him instinctively want to barge right into the Sheikah village and damn the consequences.

_We could do it. It would be so easy to kill all that get in our way._

“I’m one of the few people that takes prophecies as seriously as you all do,” Link replied, shaking his head, trying to will away the dark thoughts from his mind. He glanced over at Ghirahim who stood casually by the bodies, hand on his hip, looking amused. “And extenuating circumstances have made it easier for that prophecy to be fulfilled.”

The girl nodded. “Our seer Sahasrahla believes that you are not the one they see in their visions.” She looked unsure even as she reported this to Link.

He looked down at the dark version of the Master Sword in his hands. He wanted to tell her no. He wanted to stop feeling this all too familiar bone-deep weariness that came from traveling dungeon to dungeon, encountering challenges along the way. He thought he wouldn’t have to experience this after Demise was gone. Link wondered if he’d ever get time to rest.

…But he knew that he would never be able to rest if he knew Zelda was suffering.

“What is your plan? I can’t just walk up to the entrance and expect them to let me in peacefully,” Link said with skepticism. “No matter what Lady Efhari says.”

The girl nodded and unstrapped her bag from her back. She immediately pulled out a blue cloak with the Sheikan insignia on the back and a jar of red paint. “I’ll disguise you. No one will question you if you’ll look like one of us.”

Link stared at the ground, trying to get his thoughts in order. He knew he shouldn’t go. Circumstances seemed to constantly push him further and further towards the Sheikan Village, and he was terrified thinking about the prophecy coming true. He didn’t want to lose control. He didn’t want to hurt anyone. He put his life and sanity on the line to try to save the Sheikah children. He didn’t want to simply throw that away by burning their only home down.

Then suddenly Ghirahim had teleported, only to instantly appear in front of the Sheikah girl. The demon lord grasped her throat in one hand. The girl was frozen in terror. “He won’t agree to anything until you heal his wounds, _ungrateful little magic rat_.”

“Ghirahim, stop!” Link shouted. The loud sound of his protests shook his core and sent shooting pain straight through him, causing his knees to buckle. He was planning to ask the Sheikah if she had any healing potions. This was not the way he wanted to go about it.

Ghirahim let out a grunt of frustration but let go of the girl. Link let out a shuddering breath as the girl looked at him in shock.

“Leave us,” Link commanded in a rough voice. Ghirahim gave him a frustrated look teleporting away. The girl jumped as she heard the cracking noise from Ghirahim’s magic and then quickly rushed towards him, setting aside the clothes and paint and bowing low with her hands pressed in prayer.

“I apologize, hero! That was heartless of me to send out Lady Efhari’s commands while ignoring your injuries. Please forgive me!”

Link let out a pained sigh. “It’s alright, it’s fine. You didn’t know, and Ghirahim doesn’t…” he paused as the Sheikah girl peered up at him. “He doesn’t speak for me.” Except that he had...

“Where are your injuries?” She reached over towards his torso, to which Link quickly grabbed her hand before she could prod at him.

“Right lower rib,” Link explained quickly. “I was also stabbed in the left side.” He rolled his right shoulder, feeling the cuts from Lizalfos claws, a much smaller pain in comparison, but it wouldn’t be good to let it go unhealed. “And cuts on my shoulder.”

The Sheikah girl immediately started to chant. Her hands glowed faintly, hovering over Link’s broken rib and stab wound, then moving on to his shoulder. Link gritted his teeth as his rib painfully moved back into place.

“My apologies, hero,” she said, bowing again. “I should have asked about your injuries before. Is there anything else I can do?”

“Call me, Link, not hero,” Link replied tersely. That title had started to irritate him early into his first trip to the surface. “Your name is?”

“Paya,” She answered, still looking nervous as she grabbed the jar of red paint and unscrewed the cap. “Members of our tribe wear the insignia on our faces.” Paya let out a rattled breath as she started to scoop a fingerful of paint and started to trace across Link’s cheek. “It’s… blasphemous to us, but Lady Efhari believes it will prevent the others from asking questions, and less questions means less of our people at risk. I mean, it’s important, because the Goddess Hylia is sacred to us, and having her suffer in our care is a much bigger insult to our people than some paint on a non-Sheikah’s face. Oh gosh, Rhodes is definitely going to have my head if he ever figures out I did this…”

Link tried not to fidget too much as she worked, concentrating on not flinching with every touch to his face. He could feel Paya’s anxious ramblings roll through him like a crashing wave. Her wet finger touched his lower eyelid and he instinctively shut his eyes tight, regretting it immediately as he saw a flash of the dead Sheikah children wrapped in spiderwebs.

_She wouldn’t shut up. She was far too annoying to keep around. They didn’t need her. Link cast a dagger in his hands and gripped her chin tight, forcing her mouth open before driving the knife right through her tongue._

Link took a breath, blinking away the vision. He was getting better at predicting it. He could recognize the difference between Ghirahim’s sick twisted fantasies and reality. Still, the vision made him just as nauseated and panicked.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Link replied quickly, trying to get his breathing under control. He gave Paya a small reassuring smile. Realizing he hadn’t gotten a word in since Paya started rambling, he spoke up. “It’s nice to meet you, Paya.”

Paya blushed and gave an embarrassed nod in response before she proceeded to wrap the cloak around his figure. Link inched back and took over in tying up the cloak before she could move her fingers closer to his neck. He brushed his hair in front of his face and tested the hood, which extended long enough to keep the upper half of his face shrouded.

“I think I can…” Paya said, unsure. She raised her hand level to Link’s face and chanted, “Phatasma toh apate.” Paya waited, staring into Link’s eyes expectantly, and then becoming confused. “Phatasma toh apate,” she repeated.

Link paused, realizing what she was trying to do. “Anything besides healing magic won’t affect me.”

He had learned that fact over time using the Master sword. He had encountered some monsters that were capable of casting magic that would have otherwise been deadly to him. Fi had informed him afterwards that the sword was created to be resistant to almost entirely all types of magic, and that resistance extended to the sword’s master as well. He didn’t know the details of how Ghirahim was created, but Impa and Zelda’s notes had implied that the two blades were connected. After fighting Majora, that protection from magic was adamantly confirmed.

“You need to have red eyes to get into the village safely,” Paya said with an increasingly worried look. “If they see that you have blue eyes, they’ll attack you.”

He tried to think. The magic resistance only seemed to work if he was holding either the Master Sword or Ghirahim’s sword. He could try to will the sword away and go unarmed.

_‘Absolutely not. No going in unarmed.’_ said a voice in his mind. He couldn’t tell if that was his own voice or Ghirahim’s.

Link let out a sigh. “Ghirahim!” he called out.

Ghirahim appeared in a flurry of diamonds next to him. “What do you desire, master?” he asked, bowing gracefully. Link ignored the demon lord’s ridiculous entrance.

“I need to have red eyes,” Link said. He knew Ghirahim could do this. If the demon lord could disguise himself as Zelda so effortlessly to him, then this should be easy.

Ghirahim gave a pout. “I quite like your blue eyes, master.”

“I don’t care what you like,” Link replied, irritated that the demon lord would think flattery was necessary right now. “I need red eyes and then I need you to hide your presence completely from the Sheikah when we enter Kakariko Village. No attacking, no torture, no killing.”

Ghirahim rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers twice before disappearing again. Link looked to Paya, expectantly.

Paya stared back at him. “They’re red now, just a bit brighter than ours. Weird how they give off a bit of a glow.”

Link blinked. He didn’t really notice anything different, but he had no opportunities to look at his own reflection. “Do you think they’ll buy it?”

Paya pulled a roll of white long cloth. “Wrap this around your face.” Link obeyed, pulling over his hood and unraveling the cloth around his neck and chin. He put his hood back on and looked at her again, hiding the sword in a tight grip underneath his cloak so he looked unarmed otherwise. Paya stared for moment, looking conflicted.

“Good enough. Let’s go.”

Link followed Paya through the rocky terrain back to Kakariko Village. The trip was silent, with only Paya nervously glancing back at him, as if he’d disappear at any moment. Link tried to ignore it. He focused on trying to stay calm. He had to stay calm, not just for his sake, not just for Zelda’s sake, but for everyone. Ghirahim’s presence in his mind felt like a bomb ready to explode at any minute but Link thankfully didn’t see any other visions as they walked to the village.

They got to the already opened gate, just catching up to the group that carried the young Sheikan children home. Crowds of people had formed around the entrance as the warriors Link saw before carried the unconscious children through the crowds. He sent a prayer in his mind in hopes that they would be alright.

_They were meant to die like all the rest._

Link ignored that same nagging thought that he knew didn’t arise from his own mind. Ghirahim saw the Sheikah as nothing but disposable, though that wasn’t really surprising.

As soon as they crossed the gates, Link got a full view of the inside of the village. Like the Skyloft village, there were an assortment of houses all around them, all made of wood. The thought made him sick. The stone outer walls were lined internally with another wooden wall that had several gaps in it. Pieces of the wooden wall was smashed apart, like it had seen a war. Link supposed that they probably did before they reinforced the city and surrounded it in stone. Link looked up and saw wooden structures around the wall where Sheikah carrying bows could climb up and look over.

Paya led Link into the group of warrior Sheikah returning the children home, making it look like they had all traveled together. Link was relieved that they blended in so effectively that the villagers didn’t spare a glance at him, focused entirely on the children. Several tried to approach them, asking about the children’s health and who was alive, but the warriors brushed them off.

“Step aside everyone!” ordered Lady Efhari in a booming voice as she joined the group, right alongside Paya. “As soon as the healers look at them, the sooner we can have the children return to their families.”

The Sheikan villagers all listened, forming a pathway through the village as Lady Efhari commanded. Efhari turned to Paya, her voice much lower in volume to avoid others from listening.

“Did you follow Sahasrahla’s instructions?”

Paya nodded. “Yes ma’am.” She gave a forceful nod towards Link. Lady Efhari only glanced at Link with a blank look.

“Good,” Efhari said. “Our best seer has never let us down before. Let’s not make it a first for him.” She turned to Link again. “Follow me.”

Link silently obeyed as Efhari turned into a narrow side street. Link followed her along a dirt path between houses until they walked towards what appeared to be the largest house atop a small plateau, sitting right against the wall.

“Our library is here,” Efhari explained. “Hylia asked two weeks ago to access the library and had proceeded to stay there for three days. I sent some servants to try to remove her, just to get her some food and rest, but she took it as an attack on her personally. She has put up a magical barrier that none of our best magic users could dispel ever since.”

Link felt a spark of rage bubbling through his chest. “You lied to me.” He knew that she did, and yet he did nothing. “I saved your people despite all those times they tried to kill me, and you lie to me about the health of my only friend. I should kill you for this!”

Link let out a gasping breath as he realized what he had blurted out. No. no. no. He needed to stay calm. He couldn’t afford to lose it.

“I apologize,” Link amended, feeling horrified by his own outburst. “I didn’t mean that.”

Efhari turned to him with a discerning look. “I assume this is part of that curse you were talking about?” She paused, giving Link the time to give her a stiff nod.

Efhari was completely frank. “I did lie to you. Considering what I’ve heard from the seers these past few weeks, I think that was a reasonable response. I was not going to provide more ammunition for you to invade and attack our village without understanding your full intentions.” She let out a sigh. “I’m sure the other seers who sent their pupils to kill you provided enough of that on their own.”

“I did what I had to do to defend myself,” Link replied. “It’s your own damn fault if you can’t control your own people.”

Link realized what he said and then bit down on his tongue until he tasted blood. He didn’t mean to say that. He needed to calm down. He needed to focus. He couldn’t get angry right now.

Lady Efhari raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond to Link’s harsh criticisms. “It’s just this way to the door. Let us hope that Sahasrahla was right about this.”

Link followed her along the house at the outer edge, climbing up a set of stairs to the entrance. Two Sheikah maids stood next to the doorway, looking utterly exhausted as they waited patiently by the door. The one held a tray full of soup. They glanced over at Efhari and bowed.

“No response yet, Lady Efhari,” said the one maid as she straightened up. “The barrier still remains. We can only assume that she is still alive in there.”

Efhari nodded and looked over at Link. “The barrier extends throughout the entire house. We’ve tried tearing down a wall, digging from underneath, and even tried to dismantle a hole through the roof. Yet I’m told you should be capable of breaking through the barrier yourself.”

Link ignored her expectant look as he walked towards the door. It looked innocuous. Only a simple lock appeared to prevent the door from opening, but as Link looked carefully, he spotted a thin, translucent gold wall surrounding the entire house. It was like suddenly spotting perfectly clear glass window between a storefront and the outside world.

Link walked closer to the barrier, getting close enough to touch. “Zelda!” he called out, hoping that she would reply. He waited for a moment, but only received silence.

“Zelda, please! I need you to answer me!” Link said louder.

He touched the barrier, feeling resistance. He lifted the sword from under his cloak. The Sheikan maids let out a gasp as Link drove the sword right through the barrier. He grunted as he made a downward slice, feeling the magical wall give away like pushing through a thick gel. He had to put all his weight and strength into cutting through it. He made another slice, forming a triangular shaped opening that he ducked to step through.

The maids rushed to follow him, but the barrier formed back quickly. Their hands pressed against it, unable to pass through. Link glanced at them, and then turned to Efhari, who merely smiled in relief.

“I suppose Sahasrahla was right, after all. Get her out of there, Link, and I assure you, my people will be forever grateful,” Efhari announced and then quickly walked away.

Link silently turned back to the open door, stepping through, willing himself to ignore the butterflies in his stomach and the raging pressure in his mind. The library appeared larger when looking inside. Books upon books were stacked from floors to ceilings.

“Zelda?” Link called out as he walked through. He removed his hood and scarf to get a better look of the place.

The air was dry and his voice felt muted as he wandered through a maze of bookshelves. He heard a gasp from above, and quickly rushed towards it, spotting a stairwell leading up to a floor full of shelves of scrolls. Link dashed up the stairs.

“Zelda!” he called out again.

“Shit!” said a hoarse yet feminine voice that _definitely_ sounded like Zelda. “No, no, no, no!”

Link followed the sounds of Zelda’s voice, panic rushing through him as he desperately tried to find her through the shelves of books and scrolls. He passed through a section of scrolls that were packed tightly together, leaving no room for Link to peer through the shelves to look for his best friend.

He finally came across a large circular table, with books and scrolls scattered across. Zelda stood there, peering through a scroll with shaky hands. She looked bad. Really bad. There were bags underneath her eyes. Her face looked gaunt. Her hair was limp and greasy.

“Zelda,” Link said to get her attention. She looked up; eyes wide.

“Link,” she gasped, immediately becoming confused. “You’re here. How… Your eyes… What are you doing here?”

“Efhari told me what happened. You need to remove the barrier from the library,” Link answered.

Zelda shook her head, rolling up the scroll and setting it aside, only to pull open another from the pile. “Lady Efhari… She thinks what I’m trying to do is impossible, that I should just give up, but I won’t. This is my fault and I’m going to find a way to fix it even if I have to go through every damn book and scroll in this library.”

“Fix what?”

“The Master Sword!” Zelda answered, getting increasingly impatient, as if what Link was asking was obvious. “My ancestor imbued the Master Sword with so much power… A sacrifice in this realm would have been too costly.” Zelda pressed her hands to her face, rubbing the sleep away from her weary eyes. “She took that cost from another realm, except in that realm, a sacrifice means something completely different. Instead it resulted in the creation of-”

“Ghirahim,” Link answered before she could finish.

Zelda nodded, looking up at him again before realizing something. “How did you get in?”

“That doesn’t matter now,” Link said, trying to remain calm. “Zelda, you’re not going to find anything in this state. Listen to me when I say-”

“You broke through the barrier I cast,” Zelda stated in her sudden realization, interrupting him. “Did you…”

Link remained quiet, his body shaking as he stood there. Shame filled him as he realized what the situation looked like.

“Show me your sword,” Zelda ordered, her voice cracked. “Link, please tell me that you didn’t…”

“Zelda,” Link said, voice getting desperate. He relented and set the black sword gently on the table. “I can explain.” Except that was a lie. He didn’t think he could begin to explain to Zelda the events that had driven him to this point.

“Oh goddesses,” Zelda gasped, slapping a hand to her mouth, looking horrified as she stared at the sword. “You became his master.”

“I didn’t!” Link shouted, shaking his head furiously. “I didn’t want any of it!”

“You murdered a person in cold blood with his sword,” Zelda spoke her horrified realizations aloud.

“Zelda, you weren’t there,” Link tried to desperately defend himself. He was never good at convincing anyone of anything, let alone someone as stubborn and as smart as Zelda. “You don’t know what I...” He could say that he was forced, but was he? He didn’t even want to process how he came to become Ghirahim’s master.

“I have spent the last two weeks looking through every record of Ghirahim in existence,” Zelda said in a lowered voice. She stepped towards Link, gesturing at the pile of books on the table. “I have spent hours upon hours every day desperately trying to find any sort of spell that would end this horrible monster and you go ahead and bind your own life to him? What did he even do to convince you? What could he possibly offer you?”

_Link could feel the burst of rage in his brain radiating out through the rest of his body. He knew another vision was coming on, but he tried to resist anyways. He couldn’t kill Zelda. The idea of watching her die was too much, way too much, even if it wasn’t real. He made a compromise instead, his body lashing out against his will. He raised his hand and backhanded her across the face so hard she stumbled back into the table. Cheek bright red, her hands clutching her face in pain._

Link stepped back, waiting for the vision to fade. He didn’t hit her. He knew he didn’t. It all happened in his mind, just like the others. He waited for the vision to fade, for Zelda to appear again, unharmed, hopefully unknowing of what Link was forced to do.

Except as Link waited, trying to blink away the false reality, nothing had changed. Zelda looked up at him in shock, entirely speechless. Link tried to will his mind free of this nightmare, but nothing changed. The realization started to settle in.

“Oh no,” Link whispered to himself.

He didn’t have this under control at all. He never had control. Ghirahim was driving him to insanity. If he was hurting his own best friend against his will, then it would be just as easy for him to resort to killing the rest of the Sheikah. It was destiny.

Link knew what he had to do.

“Link, wait!” Zelda shouted, just as Link ran towards the stairs.

“Stop!” she shouted as he dashed to the first floor, weaving through bookshelves before finally finding the entrance.

He slammed the door open, scaring the two maids at the door out of their wits, rushing through the barrier with ease and down the stairs before they could say anything. He hurried towards a nearby house, climbing up on a nearby fence and pulling himself up on the roof. He spun around, vision blurring, desperately looking for a pathway to climb over the wall. He tried to focus, plotting a route forward. He just had to hop across a few rooftops. There was a gap between two Sheikan guards posted at their respective watchtowers. He couldn’t hesitate with this. He wasn’t sure what would happen if they tried to stop him or attack him.

A hand firmly grasped at Link’s arm, and he turned around, facing Ghirahim once more.

“Stop this, Link,” Ghirahim growled.

“ _DON’T_!” Link shouted; voice beyond hysterical. “ _TOUCH ME!_ ”

He wrenched his arm away as Ghirahim was forced to loosen his grip. Link rushed forwards, hopping over rooftops, heading towards the wall.

_I won’t let you do it._

The voice inside his mind sounded just as desperate as he felt. In that, he could feel some sense of comfort as he climbed up another rooftop, getting closer to the wall. Link took another leap, crossing the gap, feet landing on the stone edge, seeing the lake below.

He couldn’t hesitate this time.

Link dove into the water, swimming as quickly to the bottom as he could go, quickly expelling all the air out of his lungs. He pushed himself deeper and deeper, underwater lake plants grazing his arms as he forced himself down to the very bottom.

Here was the real test. Link’s brain couldn’t avoid the immediate panic as the very last bubbles of the air left his diaphragm. He didn’t want to feel the next bit of pain, but it was unavoidable. He had to. For Zelda’s sake, for the Sheikah’s sake, for his own sake. He purposefully sucked in water, lungs immediately choking, mind reeling. He could feel his body shake in agony as it desperately clawed for air.

There was a hand grabbing his arm again. Immediate relief cut through the instinctual panic. He _really_ didn’t want to die this way. He didn’t want to feel this pain. He looked up, seeing Ghirahim once more, pulling him back up to the surface, and felt an equal amount of dread. He tried to fight him, but his body was too weak, he struggled wildly, but the demon lord didn’t budge.

It didn’t matter in the long run. Link had swum far too deep, his lungs gone way too long without air, as he gasped and choked on endless water, agony shooting through his chest as his vision went dark.

_Link stood at the entrance of Kakariko Village as it was engulfed in flame. The wooden buildings slowly crumbling until collapsing into ash. The structures surrounding the inside of the stone wall engulfed the village in flame so that no place was left untouched by fire. The wooden gate entrance had collapsed entirely as Sheikah covered in soot and burns rushed out with only the bare necessities, crying and dragging their loved ones with them._

_The wind blew fiercely at the village, sending embers against Link’s face. He heard a loud warking noise coming from next to him, turning to see his loftwing flap its wings in fear before flying off to avoid its feathers catching fire._

_Link didn’t try to call it back. The heat was powerful just from outside._

_He stepped into the burning village, walking past dead bodies, Sheikah still screaming from the burns or other wounds. Blood was splattered against the roads. He kept walking, looking in horror. He knew. He knew that the prophecy was bad, but it was a whole other sight to see it like this._

_He walked further into the village; past houses that had been reduced to fuel for the flames. Sweat streaked down his back as his skin started to lightly burn from the heat. He felt like he was back in the hottest sections of the Eldin Volcano._

_He heard a familiar cry. It was Meda. He recognized it immediately as he rushed forwards, following the sound, pushing past piles of burning hot wood until he saw her kneeling and sobbing over a woman’s charred corpse._

_Link rushed to her, only to stop as a new creature appeared right behind her. It was… him._

_It was just as the sages described. It looked like him, but not quite. He was clothed in a black tunic. He had glowing red eyes. His hair was as white as Ghirahim’s. His skin was pale and ash colored. Yet every other feature was exactly like his. The shape of his eyes, his nose, his ears, the way his hair fell over his face... They were even the same height and build._

_In one hand, the figure held a red glowing orb, hovering just above his right hand. In his left, he summoned the familiar black sword in hand and one clean swoop, cut Meda’s head from her body, as if performing an execution._

Link believed that when he blacked out that he had taken his very last breath. He was immediately proven wrong as soon as he woke up on the shoreline of the lake, lungs still screaming in pain as he choked on the water in his lungs. He let out a wheeze and coughed uncontrollably, pulling himself up onto his hands and knees. He glanced to his side and saw Ghirahim kneeling there, looking angry.

“Get…” Link gasped, voice hoarse as he choked up more water. “Away… From me.”

“Stop trying to punish yourself for what she rightfully deserved,” Ghirahim snapped. “How dare she speak to you that way!”

Link pressed his face into the sand. Death was the only way out. He had to find another way, somehow, someway that Ghirahim couldn’t stop him. He couldn’t allow another person to be hurt because of him. He started to crawl forwards, trying to get as much distance from the demon lord as possible.

He heard footsteps rushing towards him in the distance. He tried to send all of his mental energy towards commanding Ghirahim to not attack whoever was approaching. He couldn’t find the breath to speak the command aloud.

“Get away from him!” Ghirahim warned to the person getting closer, voice desperate and enraged.

Then suddenly, Zelda was kneeling before him, gasping for air. She grabbed his shoulder to get his attention.

“Link,” she said, her voice wheezing as she held out her hand in front of him. “I need… one of his daggers. Please.”

“Don’t you dare interfere!” Ghirahim shouted. “You made him this way. I will fix him!”

Zelda looked up at Ghirahim with a skeptical look as she gathered her breath. “Will you?” she hissed with unbridled rage. “Are you going to try to fix him the way you did for Medwin, or Romy, or Aren? They all agreed to be your master but died by their own hand not long after.”

Ghirahim let out a bitter laugh. “So, you’re finally paying attention to me now? Took you long enough.”

“If my ancestors were not paying attention to you, then they were fools,” Zelda replied.

“Oh, they definitely tried to look away,” Ghirahim said with a big grin. He tilted his head, as if daring Zelda to let out her restrained rage at him. “After all these years, are you going to finally discipline me, _mother_? I can call you that, correct? You technically are.”

“You were a mistake,” Zelda replied back in a low voice, deadly serious.

“Ha!” Ghirahim let out another laugh. “It’s no wonder I turned out this way.”

“If you think bad parenting from my ancestors is all it takes to become like you, you are sorely mistaken,” Zelda argued. She pulled Link closer to her, and he didn’t fight it, lying on the ground and resting his cheek on her lap. “Link, please. I need you to cast a dagger.”

Link obeyed, summoning a black dagger in his hand and handing it to her. He had no idea what Zelda had planned, but he didn’t expect her to take the dagger and slice open her palm. “Wait!”

“Oh,” Ghirahim said, grin disappearing. “You really have been paying attention.”

“I have,” Zelda replied, lifting up her bleeding palm. A small bright light started to form in her hand. “Separation from your master makes you weaker. This should be enough magic to hold you over until then.”

“I can never fully separate from him,” Ghirahim replied, flicking his hair. “If you’re trying to propose a deal, then start by making the terms reasonable.”

“They are reasonable,” Zelda replied firmly. “Seven days, 168 hours in total. A full week in the dark realm without crossing over. You may reside close to Link in location, but not in the same realm. You’ll receive a considerable amount of my magic as payment.” The light in her hand flickered as she raised it higher up. Ghirahim gave the ball of light a discerning look.

“Four days,” Ghirahim snarled back. “A bit of magic isn’t enough to get me to agree to leaving for that long.”

Zelda pursed her lips. “If you think so, then the deal is off. Seven days total or you get _nothing_.”

Link looked up, watching as Ghirahim paused, visibly struggling with the offer. He could feel the immediate conflict within the demon lord. Clearly Zelda wasn’t offering just ‘a bit of magic’ if Ghirahim was mentally salivating at the sight of the glowing orb.

“And his protection?” Ghirahim added after a long silence. “A village full of Sheikah are determined to end his life. I’m not ready to leave my post at his most vulnerable.”

Link looked to Zelda as she paused, considering Ghirahim’s argument. He didn’t like this, them both bartering over him like this, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak up to stop it.

“If he is fatally wounded,” Zelda breathed. “You can return and will get all of my magic power.”

“No!” Link gasped, as he grabbed her arm. “Zelda, please don’t!”

The last thing Link wanted to for Ghirahim to have even more power, and he knew that Zelda was _very_ powerful. Giving all that up would mean there would be no defense against the demon lord.

Zelda looked down at him with a pleading look. “Please Link. I need you to trust me on this. Please.”

Link swallowed, hating that Zelda was resorting to this, hating that he was too weak to fend Ghirahim off himself. He loosened his grip.

Ghirahim merely smiled. “I agreed to your terms, but only if my master is injured in any way, I receive all of your powers.”

“No,” Zelda replied with building anger. “I won’t let you take advantage of my offer, and I certainly won’t allow you to gain all my power over something as simple as a papercut. You get it if Link is _fatally_ wounded, and only within the week that you are gone. That is final. I promise you, if he is wounded in such a way, you’ll be more than powerful enough to heal him if it comes to that.”

Ghirahim made a frown and remained silent for a moment. Link looked at Zelda, who remained resolute in her offer, then over to Ghirahim, whose eyes flicked back and forth from Link to the magical light held in Zelda’s hand. Link could feel his internal struggle. Ghirahim didn’t trust Zelda one bit, but the offer for more power was far too tempting to resist.

“You know as well as I do. I have no possible way to break your bond,” Zelda added. “Give me one week alone with him, Ghirahim, and he’ll be the master you always wanted.”

Link could tell that some of Zelda’s statement was true but could also call her bluff. He could sense that she hated Ghirahim almost as much as he did. He tried to remain emotionally distant. He didn’t want the demon lord to find out what was true and what was a lie.

“I have no qualms,” Ghirahim finally answered. “But it is my master that has the final say.”

Zelda looked down at him again with the same pleading look. She looked into his eyes, gripping his hand with her free one, mentally telling him, _‘Trust me. Please.’_

Link looked up at her, not liking this plan at all, but willing to follow Zelda wherever she wished, even if it was in the most dangerous, life-threatening, darkest areas in the world. It wouldn’t be the first time he had done so. He nodded. “I trust you.”

Zelda gave a weak smile as the crack of Ghirahim teleporting echoed throughout the lake. The light in her hand disappeared immediately, and she brought her bleeding hand to his shoulder and immediately pulled Link into a hug.

Link let out a gasp of surprise as the pressure in his mind immediately let up. He let out a breath of relief, feeling alive and awake and clear for the first time in a long time. The presence was gone from his mind.

“Oh goddesses,” Link breathed into Zelda’s neck. He could nearly weep with joy. “He’s gone. He’s finally gone.”


	14. Back to the Beginning

Link and Zelda stayed there, hugging each other close. He missed this. He missed her scent. He missed her touch. Link didn’t even care that she smelt like she hadn’t bathed in weeks. He was just so damn happy to finally have Ghirahim gone, and to have her with him.

He could feel the same from her. Her muscles were exhausted and weak, and yet she still clung to him for dear life, as if letting him go would mean his disappearance.

They didn’t separate until Link heard footsteps in the distance, and then he was forced to remind himself of the implications of Zelda’s deal with the demon lord.

_You cannot be fatally wounded._ Seemed simple enough… Except it really wasn’t. He truly was in enemy territory. He really hoped that Zelda had a plan for that.

Lady Efhari and the old seer who defended him, Sahasrahla both arrived with two guards on her tail. Link turned, almost instinctively wanting to grab a sword, but resisted. He had to do this without Ghirahim. He could.

“Goddess Hylia,” Lady Efhari said, bowing to the two of them. The guards quickly followed. “I am pleased to see that you have finally left our great library. Please accept my invitation into our separate quarters, although I must insist that you do not cast any barrier magic on our homes this time.”

Zelda may have stopped hugging Link, but her fingers wove tight, clutching his tunic like a lifeline. “I need your word that Link won’t be attacked by your people,” she stated.

Right on cue, close to seven different warriors jumped forwards and surrounded them, pointing swords and spears. Link immediately stood up while Zelda struggled to get to her feet. Efhari glared at them while her guards stood near her and drew their own swords.

“Lady Efhari,” said one of the Sheikah warriors, looking apologetic. “We’re here only for the chosen hero. You and the Goddess Hylia may step aside.”

Zelda glared at them, muttering something under her breath that Link couldn’t quite parse out.

“Erimentha, listen to me,” Efhari announced, voice booming and echoing over the lake. “Link is not the one to burn down the village. Our enemy is not the hero who took down Demise and saved our children and to accuse him of this is an insult to our people.”

Some of the warriors lowered their spears but, Erimentha, the one who spoke stubbornly held out her spear in a threatening manner. “The seers say that he will bring forth our extinction. Our ancestors have been fighting to stay alive for centuries and our people have finally developed a stronghold to protect us. That all goes down in flames because of him. How could any of you defend him like this?”

“Erimentha please,” Sahasrahla spoke up, stepping forwards and in front of Erimentha’s spear. “I know what the others have said, but they speak out of fear. We have not allowed prophecies to point swords at anything that may resemble the enemy and we won’t do it now. Link has done nothing more than protect us time and time again. If he can stop this attack, we are hurting ourselves by killing him.”

“Enough of this,” Erimentha shouted. “Attack!”

The other Sheikah raised their swords and spears and leapt forwards, and Link on instinct wanted to push Zelda away so she wouldn’t be hurt, but she clung to him like a limpet, body shaking, and her eyes started to glow.

“ _Diakowluma!_ ”

The light golden barrier rose up around them once more, separating Zelda, Link, Sahasrahla, Efhari and her guards from the Sheikah warriors. They all smacked their weapons ineffectively against the barrier.

“Link remains under my protection,” Zelda stated aloud. “If any of you wish to kill him, you must strike me down first.”

Erimentha finally started to look disheartened as Zelda gave out her ultimatum. The others immediately lowered the weapons, recognizing that attempting to fight the Goddess Hylia would be futile.

“Goddess Hylia, you are sentencing us all to death!” Erimentha shouted.

“I will do everything in my power to stop the prophecy,” Zelda replied, squeezing Link’s arms in a tight grip. “But I’m doing it my way. We will not kill the chosen hero unless there is no other way.”

Sahasrahla walked closer to the barrier edge. “Go back to the other seers, Erimentha. Tell them that the chosen hero is under the Goddess Hylia’s protection for now. Sending out assassins to stop him are otherwise pointless.”

Finally, the Sheikah warriors lowered their weapons, looking to Erimentha as the leader, looking disheartened, turned away, marching back to the city gates in defeat. Efhari, Sahasrahla, Zelda, and Link waited before returning to the conversation at hand. The golden magical barrier started to shimmer and disappear.

“I can send you to a place where the other seers will not be looking,” Efhari stated aloud, breaking the silence. “Anyone that they send will not think to look for you there. That’s the best that I can grant you.”

Zelda, looking more and more exhausted, merely nodded in approval.

Lady Efhari turned to her guards. “Escort them to the house by my gardens to get some food and some rest. Take Geth and Konsta with you.”

The guards nodded, bowing as Lady Efhari and Sahasrahla left for the gate alone. They both waited patiently for Link and Zelda to start moving. Link was practically lifting Zelda as she began to struggle after a few steps. He had no idea how she managed to catch up to him so quickly. _She was so thin._ Her limbs started to shake and that was all that Link could stand to watch before he scooped her up fully, her arms automatically wrapping around his neck as she pressed her nose into his chest.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, embarrassed.

“Don’t apologize,” Link replied as he started following the guards towards the village entrance. “You’re going to get some food and rest for once, and then we’ll figure this out together.”

Zelda nodded, giving him a watery smile. “I wanted to be the one to save you, for once.” She followed by pulling up his hood to hide his face before anyone looking out from the town could spot him.

Link pulled her closer to him in a reassuring squeeze. “Trust me, Zelda. You already have.”

He followed the guards past the Kakariko Village gate, keeping his head down, nervous that anyone would see him again. If Ghirahim was gone, his eyes had probably turned back to blue, and he had discarded the scarf somewhere in the library. One of the guards motioned for him to wait and came back with two others that silently surrounded him, escorting him through the village once more.

They walked a different pathway this time, almost completely to the opposite side of the village, where the houses were more spread out and separated by small gardens. They walked up a set of stairs, reaching another house at the edge of the village, surrounded by cabbages and tomatoes.

“This is where Lady Efhari has assigned you,” explained one of the guards. Link recognized him as Geth after finally deeming it safe to look up from his hood. “Tomai runs the house. She will escort you to your chambers.”

“Thank you,” Link replied. He’d bow, but Zelda was just heavy enough that he didn’t want to strain his back. He gave Geth an enthusiastic nod instead just before they all left.

“I can walk now, Link,” Zelda said. “Rest your arms.”

“Are you sure?” Link asked. Yes, his arms were getting tired, but he couldn’t help but want to cling to her, hold her as close as possible. He felt like his entire world would end if he let her go.

“I’m fine,” Zelda replied defensively. “I can walk. Don’t treat me like I’m fragile. I get that enough from Groose.”

Link lowered her feet to the ground slowly and carefully, stopping as soon as her body began to shake again. “When was the last time you ate… or slept?”

“I took a nap,” Zelda answered and paused, nudging him away as she got back to her feet. “Several hours ago. And I found a spell that made it so I wouldn’t need to eat. I should be asking you the same question.”

Before Link could reply, she grabbed his arm, leaning her weight on him, and gave him a tug towards the door. He obeyed, entering the house as he gave her some of his strength for her to remain walking.

The house turned out to be like an inn, with a desk at the front, stairs nearby going up several floors nearby, and two large rooms on each side. On Link’s left, a group of Sheikah cleaned, swords, whittled arrows, and mixed explosive powders, all sitting together as they made weapons. On Link’s right, a group of Sheikah were sitting at a table, all chatting happily.

There was a young boy at the desk, only a few years younger than Link, looking bored as he drew shapes on parchment. He looked up to see the two of them and gave them a confused look.

“Tomai!” shouted the boy, looking nervous. Link and Zelda remained quiet as they carefully looked around the place, searching for any sign of a threat.

There was a moment where Link finally gave his full attention to the boy. He was dressed in traditional Sheikan garb, simple blue clothes with a red eye insignia. However, his legs were covered in bandages, starting from the thighs and wrapping around his knees until… _Oh_. The boy’s knees ended there. He had no legs to walk upon.

A woman stood up from the table, Tomai, he guessed, had stood up from the table of Sheikah eating and talking. She walked up to them, dressed in the similar clothes, with one of her sleeves left empty, tied in a knot. Her right arm was missing up to the shoulder.

“Hello,” Tomai greeted with a bow, her golden hair fell against her shoulders, then noticed both Link and Zelda’s eyes. “You are travelers, then?”

Zelda nodded. “Lady Efhari sent us here. We need shelter. Preferably one where our location isn’t well known.”

Tomai’s face changed, instantly understanding. “A location not well known from the seers?” she asked with lighthearted amusement. “Then you’ve come to the right place.”

Zelda’s face changed into something far more serious as she realized something. “The seers uphold tradition, and tradition states that Sheikah that find themselves unable to fight must die on the battlefield with honor.” She shook her head pausing as she realized what she said out loud. “I’m so sorry. I was quoting the Vasilis’s text on Sheikah traditions. Honestly, when I read that, I thought it far too barbaric to view people that way.”

“Ah, don’t worry,” Tomai dismissed her. “We all read that text in our schools. If I had a rupee for every time I heard someone recite that quote to me, I’d be a very wealthy woman.”

Link looked more closely at the people around them, those working on the weapons and those chatting happily while they ate. He noticed now that far too many of them had scars across their faces, reaching into their milky white eyes. Some had hands or arms removed, sitting down and working more adeptly with their bare feet. Some had missing legs, as they rolled themselves around on chairs with wheels. He thought of Dorian, who was quick to end his own life when injured rather than live.

“I’m assuming you need a place to stay,” Tomai stated as the boy at the desk handed her a key. “We don’t have a lot of rooms available, so you’ll have to share. Let me know if your friend,” she gave a nod to Link. “Needs to sleep outdoors to be a real gentleman. We can certainly handle it.”

Zelda gave Tomai a small smile in understanding. Link purposefully ignored the perceived threat.

“Do you have any soup available?” Link asked her. “Something very light. We haven’t had the chance to eat a full meal in a long time and it might upset our stomachs.”

“Sure,” Tomai replied, giving him a nod. “I can certainly have some soup sent up. Anything else?”

Zelda poked at Link’s ribs. “Order something more for yourself,” she muttered.

“I’m not hungry,” Link lied under his breath. “I’ll just finish whatever is leftover between the two of us, if anything.” He didn’t plan to eat _at all_ until Zelda could confirm that she wouldn’t be capable of eating anything else tonight.

“You’re such a liar,” Zelda whispered back, more annoyed than accusatory.

“Anything else?” Tomai repeated, smiling as she watched their exchange. “We have plenty of wonderful cooks that would be happy to scrape up something delicious for you.”

“Nothing else,” Link replied, just as Zelda answered, “Chicken and bread if you have any.”

Tomai gave them both a nod. “Coming right up,” she said and handed them the key. “Make a right up the stairs. It’s the last door on the left.”

Link cautiously helped Zelda up the stairs, acting quickly when she was overcome with a wave of dizziness and nearly fell backwards. He grabbed underneath both her shoulders and pushed her upwards from behind to help her up the rest of the stairs.

“I’m fine,” she tried to reassure him. “Really, Link. I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” Link argued, as he resisted the temptation to just throw her over his shoulder and ignore whatever protests she could come up with. “Zel, you look like you’re going to fall down the stairs at any moment now.”

The reminder was enough for Zelda to push any strength she had left forwards as she stepped up the stairwell. She tried to calm her breathing, but Link could hear her struggling to keep herself quiet as she struggled for air. He pulled her arm over his shoulder again and started walking to the end of the hall.

“Almost there,” he tried to encourage her. Zelda gave him an irritated look instead. Link ignored her as he unlocked the door into the room.

The room was moderately sized, for one bedroom and a square table and a window looking out into the city. He brought Zelda over to the table and started to immediately look around. He checked under the bed, he opened the window, he looked through the small bathroom in a small side room, and even spared a glance through the hallway before returning to the room.

“Up to your standards, your majesty?” Zelda teased. She tiredly held up her head with her palm, looking far more tuckered out than before.

“Sorry,” Link replied. “I can’t help it.” He really couldn’t. Ever since his mission, unfamiliar enclosed spaces had made him antsy. He had this uncontrollable need to check every corner and memorize every exit of every new place before he could even think of getting comfortable.

Zelda looked down at the table in front of her. “You don’t have to apologize. Not for anything. I know you didn’t choose to become Ghirahim’s master, and I’m sorry I even considered thinking that was the case.”

Link couldn’t help but tense at the sudden change in conversation. He shouldn’t bring it up because he finally got his opportunity for a break from the demon lord, but he knew that he couldn’t make the same mistake twice now, especially not when he had a very limited time with this newfound freedom.

“The others,” Link began, not knowing quite how to phrase his question. “The people who were Ghirahim’s master before Demise… What happened-”

There was a knock at the door before he could finish. Link opened the door, revealing an older blind man carrying a tray with two bowls of soup, roasted chicken, and a roll of bread. Link frowned at seeing the tray and was immediately glad the man didn’t see his reaction.

“Your food,” the man gestured.

“Thank you,” Link replied. “I can take the-”

“Did you move any of the furniture around?” the man interrupted, turning so the tray was away from Link’s reach.

“No,” Zelda replied. “You can set it here.”

The man walked confidently over to the table and set the tray in front of Zelda. He gave a short bow and quickly walked out of the room.

“Come sit down and eat,” Zelda said as she took a bowl and spoon from the tray and placed it in front of her. She gave him an expectant look, the kind of look that said, ‘ _don’t you dare argue with me on this_.’

Link obeyed, taking a section of the chicken and placing it on his plate. Zelda gave him another look when she saw the meagre meal on his plate, but continued to eat the soup, lifting the bowl and drinking down the broth. Link ate a few pieces of chicken, feeling too guilty with each bite. As soon as she finished one bowl, setting aside her spoon, Link took the other bowl off the tray and set it in front of her. Zelda gave him a glare.

“I told you, I’m not hungry,” Link defended himself. “I’ve been eating. I didn’t cast a spell on myself in the last week that would somehow make me not need to eat.”

“Don’t throw that on me,” Zelda argued, pointing her spoon at him. “My best friend was being stalked and harassed by a monster that might even be more dangerous than Demise, and as soon as I go look to find a way to stop him, I hear…” she sucks in a breath, as her fist tightens around the spoon. “…that _damned prophecy_. I was working on a time limit. If there was any record of Ghirahim having a weakness we could exploit, I had to find it as soon as possible.”

Link didn’t know how to respond to that, so he resigned himself to taking another bite of chicken before changing the subject. “What did you find out?”

Zelda sighed as she looked sadly down at the soup. “Not much. There are records of people who have become Ghirahim’s master before. Many of them were otherwise innocent men and women who in just a few weeks, turned into mass murderers.” She rubbed her free hand on her forehead. “There’s was just nothing but horrifically bloody ends for all of them.”

She let out a sigh. “Demise was different, even though he was arguably more powerful and far more destructive in a shorter period of time. The Sheikah and our ancestors had outlined a real plan to stop him. I found all the texts to explain it. Ghirahim… well… He was never as much of a worry to the safety of all humanity. Just the silent few that he had tormented.”

Link nodded. He supposed that would be true, considering Ghirahim’s entire focus seemed to revolve around him once Demise was gone. There didn’t seem to be any grand plans for him to take over the surface world.

Zelda set down her spoon, with building anger. “He should’ve been. My ancestors before me were so foolish to let him go free like that. The things he’s done to people…”

Zelda gripped the table hard before her hands started to shake and then Link knew, as his throat grew instinctively tight what was about to happen. He had to say it. He had to tell her. He couldn’t keep this secret anymore.

“He tortured you, didn’t he?” she said, aloud, voice cracking, almost terrified at the thought that it could be true.

Link pulled his hands into his lap, gripping his hands together tightly. His vision started to blur, and he struggled to take in a full breath. “Not in the traditional sense.”

Zelda started to look confused, until Link tried to explain further. “We were both tracking you and met in the Skyview Temple and fought. I lost.” Link paused, trying to swallow the knot in his throat. “He…” he took another breath. “He tied me down and…Well,” he let out what was going to be a nervous chuckle that unintentionally sounded a lot more like an animal dying. “He thought it would be hilarious if the Goddess’s chosen hero wasn’t as virtuous as he seemed.”

He looked up after he said those words, still feeling just as tense and just as horrible, only to see tears start to stream down Zelda’s face.

“I stopped him,” Link added, as if hoping that that would reassure her. “Before it got… Well he still... It was horrible, but I stopped him.”

Zelda shook her head as she let out a loud sniff and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I’m sorry, that isn’t…” Her voice grew hoarse. “Oh goddesses, the Skyview Temple… You actually kept going after that. You kept fighting him.”

Link looked back down at his chicken, barely touched. “He was after you. If he did anything to you that he did to me…” he paused, shuddering at the thought, thinking of Impa’s words. ‘ _The truth of it is you were late. You were late, and you failed to protect her._ ’

“I couldn’t live with myself if I let that happen.” He almost did let it happen. He was so, so grateful --more grateful than he was for anything good that ever happened in his life-- that Impa got there in time to make up for his weakness.

“Link, you know that none of this is your fault, right?” Zelda asked, her voice cleared as she looked at him with new eyes.

He looked up at her and regretted it. She didn’t look at him with pity. She looked at him like he was strong, admirable, everything that he couldn’t ever be. She had to be seeing someone else.

Link pushed away his plate of chicken. “Let’s just get some sleep.”

Zelda grabbed his hand. “Link,” she said in a serious tone. “None of this was your fault.”

He knew. He knew that she would say that. Fi had said the same thing to him. She had repeated it to him whenever he’d ruminate over his fight with Ghirahim, when Impa had left him with her cruel words, when he’d have nightmares so horrible that he’d start sobbing uncontrollably. He knew and yet still couldn’t believe it.

“I didn’t train enough,” Link whimpered, his own words cutting away at his heart, but he couldn’t help himself but say them aloud. “I didn’t take it seriously. I let go of my sword so easily. I was naïve and weak and-”

“No, Link,” Zelda interrupted him. “Those are his excuses, his justifications. Ghirahim has lived on for centuries, hurting and killing people all the while because he found it ‘hilarious’ as you say. Everything he’s done to you was his fault, and his fault alone.”

They paused for a moment as the words rolled through Link’s mind. After a few minutes, Zelda set the bowl of soup aside, and Link watched as she rubbed her eyes.

“Take the bed. Get some rest,” Link told her, a bit relieved that he had something else to focus on besides his own trauma.

Zelda nodded and stood up, the difference after eating was noticeable enough. She didn’t appear struck by dizziness like before. She turned to Link.

“Do you remember when we had that big storm go through Skyloft?” Zelda asked.

Link did. They had to be only ten years old at the time when something close to a hurricane passed through. Windows had to be boarded up. Doors were reinforced. Everyone had locked themselves inside to avoid the massive winds that tore through fencing and roofing and roads. That night, he and Zelda had huddled together on his small bed after playing all their favorite games to keep busy.

The only other time they shared a bed together was right after Demise had been defeated, and Link didn’t want another repeat of a morning where he nearly choked her in a panic.

“I could hurt you,” Link warned.

Zelda shrugged. “I don’t think you will. Not this time,” with far more confidence than Link expected. She pulled back the sheets and crawled into the bed, purposefully leaving space for him. She let out a yawn. “It’s up to you, Link. The offer stands, and I’d rather you didn’t have to sleep on the floor.”

Link hesitated. He would be just fine going to sleep sitting with his back against a wall. He’s done it so many times now that it became his new normal. Yet he couldn’t resist the sudden need to want to feel Zelda close to him again.

He resigned himself to first finish eating the chicken and bread, because he didn’t want to waste food and he didn’t want to insult Tomai’s wonderful cooks either. After quickly eating, he took off his boots and slid into the bed, expecting Zelda to already be asleep. When Zelda proved him wrong by reaching for his hand behind her to pull him closer, he nearly jerked out of her grip. He took some deep breaths to relax, pressed his nose into her hair, and fell asleep much faster than anticipated.

-

Link woke up to the sound of muffled screaming. It took him a moment to realize where he was, sharing a bed with Zelda lying next to him. He could hear her slow breathing in one ear, and another shout from the wall behind him. Within moments, Link pulled himself out of bed to investigate the sound.

He opened the door and rushed into the room across from him as soon as he heard more screaming. If something happened, if someone came to attack them and one of the residents got hurt… His mind immediately jumped to the worst conclusion as he pushed open the door, ready to fight.

The room was mostly empty. Nothing but a similar looking table and bed. There were small trinkets lined across the table and windowsill. The curtains were thinner and made with a better-quality fabric. There was a handmade green rug along the floor.

The blind man who served Link and Zelda their food was lying on the bed, body shaking as he cried out once more. Link flinched, realizing his mistake.

It was the strangest sight, because Link had always been the damaged one. He was the one who had suffered nightmares, while all others looked at him with pity for it. To be on the other side of this felt too foreign to him. The sudden need to stop those nightmares --even from a man he didn’t know or didn’t seem to care about him-- urged him on.

Link walked up to the bed and moved the short sword resting nearby away from reach. The blind man made another shout from nightmares, and Link could hear as others next door began opening their doors.

Link proceeded to check under the pillow and under the bed for weapons as the man thrashed in his sleep, before finally reaching for the man’s shoulder, giving him a nudge. The man didn’t seem to be a light sleeper like him. He gave the man another shake.

“Hey,” Link tried, voice uncertain. He had never done this before. “It’s okay. You’re safe now. It’s okay.”

While Link had been careful to check for knives in the bed, he hadn’t realized that the man would be hiding a small knife hidden under the bandages on his thigh. Link had seen Sheikah that used bandages not to wrap wounds, but merely placed in random locations on their person. He wanted to slap himself for not realizing their ulterior purpose until now.

The blind man reached for the knife and lunged forwards. Link quickly caught the knife before it could plunge into his throat but was thrown onto his back as the blind man tried to gain leverage. Link’s muscles shook as he struggled to keep the man from stabbing him.

“Ormin!” shouted a voice from the doorway. It was Tomai rushing forward, grasping Ormin’s wrist and helping Link slam his hand to the wall with enough force for him to release the knife. “Ormin, it was just a nightmare!”

Ormin let out a gasp. “Fuck!” He crawled away, back pressed against the bed. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

Link let out a breath of his own as he sat up and moved away from Ormin. He was instantly reminded of flashes of Fledge, bleeding out before him. “It’s okay,” he replied, pausing to let the adrenaline flow through his system. “I’ve had…” This was not the time for explaining his own issues. “I should’ve expected that. I’ve been in your position before.”

Ormin clutched his fingers together before sliding them into his hair, curling up into a ball. “I was fighting them again. There were so damn many.”

Tomai patted her hand against Ormin’s shoulder. “Get some rest Link. I’ll take it from here.”

Link nodded and turned around, seeing a group of people at the door, and then freezing when he saw Zelda’s sad face before she left to go back to the room. It was then that Link knew he had really screwed up. What the hell was he thinking?

He walked through the small group of Sheikah back into their room. Zelda was standing there, facing away from him. Link could sense immediately that she was upset. He knew he deserved her ire.

“You have every right to be angry at me,” Link stated. “What I did was stupid. I was still under the mindset that if anyone attacks then I should-”

“That you should be the one to face the enemy?” Zelda snapped, as she turned to face him. “Even though your life right now is the only thing that keeps Ghirahim from becoming more powerful than we could comprehend? Even though if you died, and I lost all my magic, there would be absolutely no one to stop Ghirahim from getting anything and everything that he could ever desire?”

Link stared at the floor, feeling more ashamed than ever that he left. He didn’t have to consider ramifications like this before. His life was just that… No one else could do the risky things that he did, so he always had to be ready to step in to keep everyone else safe. The realization that he had to keep himself shuttered away even while others suffered nearby made him even more tense.

“Of all people, Link,” Zelda finished, still angry with him, throwing her hands up in the air. “I thought you would understand not to wake a Sheikah warrior suffering from nightmares. What were you even thinking?”

There was a pause, and she looked at him, expecting an answer. Link swallowed the knot that formed in his throat, replaying the scene in his head with increasing shame. He thought he was safe when he moved all the weapons. He didn’t believe that the man would react like he would.

“I thought…” Link began, chest tightening as he spoke. “Attacking people in their sleep… I thought that was something only that I did. Everyone in Skyloft…” They had all seemed so peaceful; untouched by the horrors that Demise, Ghirahim and every other monster had brought. There was a reason he was banished after all. “I thought that there was just _something_ _wrong with me_.”

_“Oh, you’re not human,”_ the skullkid had said. That phrase had been eating away at Link ever since.

Zelda’s face crumpled at the last sentence. She gave Link a sad look. “Warrior’s fatigue. That’s what some of the Sheikah have called it in their texts. They believed it was a phenomenon that only their people suffered from, but I think it extends to anyone who’s faced extreme trauma.”

Link considered the words and what he was feeling himself. ‘Warrior’s fatigue’ didn’t come close to describing the hell he’s been through and summarizing it up into those simple words didn’t seem to make sense either. Yet he kept replaying Ormin’s reaction in his mind and how similar it was to his own. He wasn’t alone in this. He wasn’t the only one suffering.

Link would’ve never wished for anyone to experience the nightmares, the paranoia, the flashbacks, the disturbing shameful thoughts and feelings that he had. However, just knowing that he wasn’t the only one… This wasn’t abnormal. He wasn’t just a freak. His feelings were valid. They gave him a sense of relief that he hadn’t felt before.

Zelda turned to look out the window with a wistful look. “There’s so much that I learned, so much that you could learn as well. I wish the circumstances weren’t like this.” She lifted her fist, knuckles turned white in frustration. “Damn that prophecy to hell.”

Link didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. Zelda had always had a way of saying aloud what Link was feeling himself. He had always comfortably deferred to allowing her to speak for him when he needed it.

Zelda let out a sigh, and then turned back around. “I can’t find anything of value in the Sheikah library, Link, but we haven’t exhausted all our resources.” She walked over to the bathroom, pausing at the entrance. “I’m going to wash up… and then…” she paused and then took a breath. “And then you need to tell me everything that’s happened between you and Ghirahim.”

Link waited until Zelda closed the door to the bathroom before reacting to that last statement. Despite knowing that he should tell Zelda everything, he was not in any way looking forward to reliving the worst parts of the past year, let alone anything that had happened the last few days. His heart raced at the thought, the stress of talking about it pushing him to curl up in a ball on the bed as he waited, _and dreaded_ , for Zelda to finish.


	15. Separation

Telling Zelda the full details of his first encounter with Ghirahim was like taking a knife and scraping out all his insides until he felt both completely hollowed out, his mental state worn thin and on the verge of cracking into pieces.

Zelda did not cry like the last time when Link described to her the scene in which he was assaulted at the Skyview Temple. They both sat at the table to come up with a plan to stop Ghirahim after eating a breakfast of scrambled eggs and rice. Link could see Zelda struggle to remain detached, taking in the information to try to parse out anything that could be useful to her. She asked questions, not about anything that he or Ghirahim did, but of the types of magic that he used, anything noticeable about his core, and any strange reactions Ghirahim might have had to any of Link’s attacks.

All those questions were still so difficult to answer. He repeatedly said, “I don’t know,” more times than he could count, feeling frustrated with himself that he didn’t try to focus more on all of Ghirahim’s powers and weaknesses.

“It’s okay that you don’t know, Link,” Zelda tried to reassure him. “You had much bigger things to worry about. I wouldn’t expect anyone to be able to remember every little detail that took place.” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat before going on. “When was the next time you saw him?”

Link described the very brief encounter with Ghirahim in the Earth Temple, what had happened after Zelda had escaped in the time gate, his appearance in the Ancient Cistern, and then his encounter in the Fire Sanctuary.

“A thread of fate,” Zelda repeated to herself in thought.

Link nodded, pausing his recollection of their first few meetings. “Does that mean anything to you?”

“Maybe,” Zelda answered. “Ghirahim is arrogant but has every reason to be. He’s been doing this for thousands of years and binding himself to masters to protect himself for that long.” Zelda rubbed her chin in thought. “All magic has different forms. Those forms can be helpful for strengthening and weakening spells and curses. It doesn’t give me answers as to how to get past his magical resistance, but once we do get past that, I think I could break the connection between you.”

Link tried and failed to swallow the perpetual lump in his throat that he had been struggling to speak past the entire time. “And that connection is a thread of fate?”

“It’s thread-like,” Zelda corrected, lips pressed in uncertainty. Link knew that he wasn’t going to get whatever description of magic that she was talking about. That was her arena, not his. “’Thread of fate’ is a bit overdramatic to be honest.”

“Figures,” Link muttered, tapping his fingers nervously on the table before they returned to their discussion.

Link recounted the fight after Zelda had been kidnapped, and then the fight with Demise. He had already explained this fight to her, to confirm that Demise was gone, and at the time, it appeared that Ghirahim had disappeared along with him.

“He had abandoned Demise,” Link recalled again, realizing how desperately he had believed it. “I thought it was over. I just wanted all of this to be over.”

Zelda let out a hollow chuckle. “We both wanted everything to be tied up into a neat little bow.”

Link looked at her questioningly. There was something that she wasn’t telling him. Zelda noticed immediately and looked away with shame.

“I believed that this was some task for us, chosen by the goddesses. I thought that the Triforce was a holy weapon passed down by the goddesses to protect us from Demise and stop him once and for all. I thought…” Zelda took a breath before going on. “Everyone had told me, and I just blindly believed that I was this ‘Goddess Hylia’ that everyone talked about.”

Zelda looked down, her fists tightening. “It was all a lie. The Triforce was created by a power-hungry king centuries ago. He killed so many people in the process of getting what he wanted. Demise was created along with the Triforce because you can’t bring forth something like that with so much power without consequences.” Zelda went on, her voice getting more strained. “The king’s children are our ancestors, the people who had to clean up their father’s mess. My ancestor was not a Goddess, as history might say, but just a witch given extra power from the Triforce itself.”

Link listened carefully, taking in this new information. “But we were still the ones to stop Demise.”

“Yes,” Zelda replied. “But my ancestor made the same mistake that the king had made. She created the Goddess Sword for you to stop Demise, but just like before, Ghirahim was created in the process, and the cycle of this violence and death had increased in the long run.”

Her eyes begun to fill with tears again. “And I unknowingly spread their propaganda to anyone and everyone who would listen. I’ve tried talking to the seers about changing things, but they are dead set on letting everyone believe this lie.” She paused, feeling disgusted.

“I mean, it is advantageous for me to be seen that way for your protection at the moment,” She wiped away the tears on her sleeve. “But I will eventually have to go back to Skyloft and tell everyone that I’ve lied to them.”

Link leaned back, staring at the nearby window. “I would help you if I didn’t have Ghirahim to worry about…” He paused, realizing that even if Ghirahim was gone, it didn’t change what Gaepora said to him. “And if I wasn’t banished.”

Zelda looked at him in shock. “You were banished?”

Link sighed, rubbing his face before going on. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let me explain.”

Zelda didn’t interrupt again as Link explained the first encounter with Dorian, and the immediate encounter with Ghirahim afterwards. He spoke briefly about returning to the surface and finding that the Kikwi had disappeared, to Zelda’s quiet but saddened dismay. He talked about the first deal he made with Ghirahim to return Pipit back to the Skyloftian Village, and then his second encounter with the Sheikah that ended in their deaths at the demon lord’s hands. He briefly explained his first visit to the Skyloftian village with Pipit in tow, before he went to see Impa, then his final visit to the village, only to be banished by Gaepora.

“Ugh,” Zelda replied in a huff. “My father can be so incompetent sometimes.”

“It was the right decision,” Link argued. “He only threatened the town because of me.”

Zelda shook her head. “Trust me, Link. Ghirahim will use any flimsy excuse to attack people. Banishing you, the one person who has defeated him once before would only make things worse.”

Link didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t want to argue with Zelda on this. He wanted what she said to be true but couldn’t help but feel guilty for putting all of the Skyloftian Village in danger. He knew that he shouldn’t. It was Ghirahim that had threatened the village, but would the demon lord have done so if he wasn’t there?

Instead of ruminating on that thought, Link kept on explaining the next sequence of events with Tharin and Meda. How he was forced to do Tharin’s bidding, escorting them to their farmland up north, and how Ghirahim taunted him for it. When it finally came down to explaining what happened to Tharin in his final moments, Link struggled to find the words.

“I was just looking for a clean change of clothes,” Link explained. “Tharin found me and went to grab a pair for me. I had a flashback. The next thing I knew, Ghirahim’s sword was in my hand, and Tharin was dead.”

Zelda held her hand up to pause and thought for a moment. “Do you remember anything else in that moment? Anything Ghirahim did?”

Link had thought he was getting used to this constant state of discomfort. He had a constant level of chilled sweat. His muscles became sore from holding tension for hours. He had needed three full glasses of water to clear his throat throughout his entire explanation. He could tell Zelda was getting weary listening to him recount everything as her expression went from stone cold to more desperate. At least, she kept her tone short and clipped, never judging or questioning Link for any actions he took.

“I remember Ghirahim looking surprised,” Link answered. “His sword appeared from out of his body, but he didn’t expect that to happen. Demise had done the same to him when he was resurrected, but he was expecting it then.”

Once again, Zelda paused, thinking through Link’s description. “Was this similar to how you summoned the Goddess Sword… the first time?”

Link had avoided any comparison between Fi and Ghirahim throughout his rendition of things until now. He felt sick even thinking it, but it was true. He silently nodded, before pausing, remembering demon lord’s words afterwards.

“He said that I called for his sword,” Link answered. “But it was a lie. It had to be.”

Zelda froze and didn’t say anything, which Link picked up right away.

“Let’s move on.”

“What are you not saying?” Link demanded. “Tell me.”

Zelda remained silent.

“Zel,” Link added, fear making his heart race. If she was hesitant to tell him, it couldn’t be good.

“You have some magical abilities of your own, Link,” Zelda explained. “It wasn’t Fi who came to rescue you, nor Ghirahim’s ability to place his sword in your hands. I didn’t notice it until I had more control over my own powers. Magical objects, like the Master Sword-” she paused before thinking of a better example. “-or the Goddess Harp, can help make your magic easier to control. But I’ve never read anywhere of anyone being able command a sword like that without using their own magic before.”

Link gulped back the sudden urge to vomit and buried his head in his hands. He knew it. He knew it was his fault. All of it was his fault. He was the one to accept Ghirahim as his master all along. He was the one to make everything worse. He was the one to determine the destructive fate of Kakariko Village.

“Link!” Zelda shouted, grabbing his hands to try and get his attention. “Link! Please, I need you to calm down. This isn’t your fault!”

“I chose him. I chose him as my sword,” Link broke down into a sob.

“No, you didn’t,” Zelda argued, pulling his hands away from his face. “Look at me, Link.” Link obeyed, bringing his head up, even though he wanted nothing more than to crawl in a hole and die.

“Link, Tharin and Ghirahim both trapped you. You did the only thing you could to get free,” Zelda reassured him, fiercely stating each word. “None of this isn’t your fault.”

“He’s dead because of me,” Link replied weakly. “I killed him, and once Ghirahim comes back, he’s going to make me kill everyone.”

Zelda bit her lip and hardened her face. “You haven’t burned down Kakariko Village yet. We still have time to figure this out. Let’s take a break, have some lunch, and come back to this and you can tell me the rest, okay?”

They did, as Link tried to focus on forcing all his muscles to stop clenching. He mostly stared out the window, watching the scene below of Sheikah passing by throughout their day, buying food, talking, acting like ordinary people. He never thought he would see this. He had only seen Sheikah point weapons and threats at him in the last two days. It hurt even more to think that in less than a week, he might kill them all.

Zelda had left the room to order some lunch, which turned out to be cheese, bread, and beans. She set the tray aside for them.

“Whenever you’re ready to talk again, we can begin,” Zelda said, trying her best not to make Link feel rushed.

Link remained staring out the window in silence, making no move to touch the food in front of him, before finally speaking. “Does it matter? Ghirahim said that the only way to separate us is death. I’m going to have to die to be free of him.”

“That’s the only way that he knows,” Zelda corrected him. “Ghirahim is not omniscient. He may have lived for a long time, but he doesn’t know all there is to know on magic.” She let out a sigh. “Please Link. If there is anything,” she paused for emphasis. “Anything at all that we could use against him, I need to know.”

Link sighed. “Alright.”

He began telling her about his and Meda’s journey to Kakariko Village and the sudden influx of hallucinations he started having. Zelda didn’t ask him to describe them in detail, so he didn’t, instead telling her that he dropped Meda off at the village entrance and then went to take down the monsters that were kidnapping children. It wasn’t until he recalled Majora talking to him that Zelda made him stop.

“Wait a second,” Zelda said, holding up her hand to stop him. “You started hearing this voice, and Ghirahim didn’t know about it?”

“Correct.”

“Did you end up facing the monster?”

“Yes.”

“What did it look like?”

“10 feet tall. Purple humanoid body. One eye, and yellow markings all over. Ghirahim called it ‘Majora’.”

Zelda became increasingly tense, but there was something hopeful in her eyes as she asked each question. “To you?”

“To the monster itself. They seemed to be familiar with each other,” Link answered. He noticed that Zelda had grown more and more excited at this fact. “Ghirahim also said it ‘relishes off the suffering of children.’”

Zelda stood up immediately, walking towards the door. “I need to talk to Tomai to send a message to Lady Efhari.”

“What is it?” Link said as he stood up to follow her.

“I think we can try to use whatever type of magic Majora uses,” Zelda answered in a rush. “If Majora was able to talk to you, essentially get past Ghirahim’s defenses, then we might have a way to do the same to break the bond between you two.”

Link’s heart nearly leapt into his throat at the thought. He could be free. He really could be free of Ghirahim. This changed everything. Link followed at her heels as they rushed downstairs to summon Lady Efhari and gather whatever knowledge was available on Majora.

-

A few days later, Link was sitting in the same room, feeling restless for staying in the same place for so long, but resisting because he knew what the consequences were. He spent more and more time staring out the window and looking at the village below.

Zelda was busy sitting on the floor, pouring through books and scrolls that Efhari had brought to them. Link had tried to go through a few with her, learning more about Majora and the ancient tribe that used a special type of magic to get revenge on their enemies, creating a monster more powerful than ever in the process. However, he had no idea was Zelda was looking for, and Zelda didn’t seem to know either.

“Just let me do this, Link,” she said as she flipped through pages of a book. “I can teach you the basics of magic when this is all over, but something like this takes a lot of training and understanding that I don’t have time to teach you.”

“But you think this hexing magic can break the bond between me and Ghirahim?”

“I believe so,” Zelda replied. “This isn’t what their magic was used for back then, but if Majora was able to separately affect you and not Ghirahim, I think this might be the best way to approach breaking the bond.”

Link nodded and went back to staring out the window while Zelda kept on reading. The room was silent until he heard a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Zelda said absentmindedly, not lifting her gaze from the book she was reading.

Lady Efhari entered, looking just as primped in her robes as ever. She gave Zelda a nod and smiled at Link.

“I’m glad to hear that Link has prevented you from creating any new magical barriers against us,” she commented with a smirk and a knowing nod to Link.

Link didn’t know how to feel about the gesture. He didn’t want to be included in whatever dispute Zelda and Efhari were currently having. He could tell that this dispute had been going on before he even traveled to Kakariko Village.

“You haven’t tried to stop me so I see no reason to do so,” Zelda replied back haughtily. “Link doesn’t prevent me from doing anything.” The words ‘ _unlike you_ ’ were left unspoken.

“This isn’t a grand conspiracy, Goddess Hylia,” Efhari shot back with false politeness, as if attempting to remind Zelda to keep her composure with her own title. “I just wanted you to eat and bathe more regularly.”

Zelda closed her book shut. “Was that truly all that you wanted?”

Efhari paused, before folding her arms and leaning against the wall next to the door. “You sent Tomai to bring me here. Was there something you wanted, besides chastising me?”

Zelda’s angry look deflated. “I wouldn’t ask you to do this if it wasn’t absolutely important, as in the safety of the entire village may depend on it.”

“I’m listening.”

“I need the bodies of the children who died in that cave,” Zelda answered with grave seriousness.

Efhari didn’t react. There was only a pause as the room grew only more tense.

“You realize that you are asking my people to not bury their dead, a horrific violation in our eyes,” Efhari said, her face and voice growing stone-like.

“I am aware,” Zelda replied. “This type of magic is a horrific violation in my eyes as well, but like I said, the safety of the entire village depends on it.”

Link watched in horror as Zelda and Efhari stared at each other, as if in their own little mental battle beyond words. He was equally sick at the thought that they needed the bodies of the Sheikah children to perform this magic, but he remained silent.

Efhari finally nodded. “I’ll let you know if anyone is willing.” Then she quickly left.

The room was silent once more as Zelda went back to searching through her book but Link no longer felt the desire to stare out the window. He knew he should just enjoy this moment of freedom that he might not ever have, even that ‘freedom’ was hiding away in a room with Zelda for a week. However, he knew he needed to address the elephant in the room.

“Zelda,” Link began, then pausing, realizing how horrible his next words had to be. “I understand that you’re pushing Lady Efhari to do this to protect Kakariko Village, but even if this spell fails…”

Zelda didn’t respond, her face forming a frown as she stared at her book. “It’s _not_ going to fail.”

“If it does,” Link added. “Promise me you’ll let the Sheikah defend their village, even if it means that I die in the process.”

Zelda winced at those words. “He could still burn down the village after you’re dead.”

“He’ll be much weaker,” Link argued. “He knows he could die if he tries attacking the village without a master. He won’t risk it.”

Zelda put down her book and lowered her head so that her hair hid her expression, before she shook her head. “I’m not ready to lose you like that.”

Link understood. He knew she would say those words. That was why he needed to hear her promise him this.

“There’s a reason I jumped into that lake. If the spell fails and you let me live, you are condemning me to be forever bound to my rapist, and… forced to live under the same thrall his victims have suffered under.”

Tears dripped down Zelda’s cheeks as he spoke those words, voice cracking, feeling the horror of them even as he spoke the truth. He had accepted that this would be his fate a while back. Zelda had to accept this as well. Link stood up, walking over and kneeling in front of her, grabbing her hands.

“Promise me you won’t let me live like that,” Link pleaded. “Please.”

Zelda looked into his eyes with immeasurable sadness before she reluctantly nodded. Link let go of her hands so she could wipe her tears away. Link knew he wouldn’t get anything besides a quick nod out of Zelda. Pushing this would only upset her more, and she needed to have a clear head in the days to come. He quickly stood up. Zelda gave him a questioning look.

“I’ll be right back,” Link said as walked towards the door. “I’m just going to get something from Tomai.”

He walked out the door and quickly made his way down the ground level, where Tomai sat at the desk up front taking down notes with a quill.

“Hello Link,” Tomai greeted. She took another glance at the page, crossing something out and writing more. “Just practicing writing with my non-dominant hand. You can imagine how difficult that can be. Do you need anything?”

“A pack of cards, please?” Link answered.

Tomai was quick to set aside her quill and pull out a pack from the desk and hand it to me. There seemed to be a group playing cards whenever he came downstairs, so he wasn’t surprised that she had them ready on her.

“If you the two of you ever get bored up there, there’s always a group down here looking for new players,” Tomai said with a smile before lowering her voice. “Just be careful because some of them think they can get away with cheating.”

“Good to know. Thanks,” Link replied. Maybe a card game with new players would be good. He hadn’t played any games in a while, and he knew Zelda hadn’t either.

He rushed back upstairs with the deck of cards, opening the door to a Zelda that still hadn’t moved from her position on the floor, reading through books. She looked up when Link held up the deck for her to see.

“Remember when we used to play Treikort?”

Zelda looked back down at her books. “I don’t have time to waste.”

“It won’t be wasted,” Link replied. He didn’t explain to her why them playing cards together was a waste of time. He knew that she knew after the conversation they had; it might be their last.

Link sat down on the floor in front of her, pushing her books away to clear the space in front of them. Zelda let out a small sigh before placing her book into the pile. He pulled the cards out of the box and started to shuffle them.

“Remember when we used to play against Groose, and occasionally Stritch or Cawlin?” Link asked with a small smile.

Zelda returned the smile playfully as Link started to pass out cards. “I think the last time we played, Groose tried cheating and I still beat him fair and square.”

“Only because you knew he was cheating and left me to wonder why he was playing such a good hand all of a sudden,” Link accused her, but there was no harshness in his words. They hadn’t played any games together in so long, the nostalgia of the moment made him relax and grin even harder. “And because he was trying to let you win.”

“He did that a lot,” Zelda commented with a roll of her eyes as she placed down a card. “It’s his own damn fault for that.”

“He did it because he’s in love with you,” Link replied, as he placed down his own cards. “He’s at least grown a bit since last year. He’s not as obnoxious about it as he used to be.” Link thought of when Groose caught that deer when he was still helping the Skyloftians set up their village. Zelda had hugged him. She had looked so happy.

“I wouldn’t hold it against you,” Link admitted. There was a part of him that grew jealous, like he always did at the thought of Groose and Zelda together, a feeling that stayed with him since he first met his best friend in the Knights Academy. He needed to put that aside, especially if he was going to be dead by next week. “If you ended up with him, I would understand.”

Zelda shook her head as she placed down more cards. “I couldn’t. Sure, Groose has grown since last year, but you and I, we’ve…” She took a breath. “There was always such a massive gap between us and him. That hasn’t changed. I still feel like I’m talking to a child sometimes with Groose. I don’t want that kind of relationship.”

There was a sense relief that washed over Link at that thought, even though he knew he wasn’t ready to make his relationship with Zelda more intimate. Her reassurance that she wasn’t going to fall in love with Groose, and that they seemed to be more as equals than when she was with others felt good. Even though he knew their shared experience as chosen heroes was probably just as isolating for her as it was for him.

Link set down two cards, getting rid of the last to cards in his hand and grinned. “I win.”

Zelda made a huff as she set her remaining cards down. “I should get back to work.”

Link merely smiled. “Yeah maybe you should.”

Zelda pursed her lips, staring at Link before throwing a pointed jab his way. “Don’t you dare look at me like that.”

Link feigned innocence. “Like what?”

“Like you think one card game is going to prevent me from getting back to studying this spell,” Zelda argued, but Link had noticed that she still hadn’t made a move to pick up the book she was reading.

“I wasn’t,” Link replied simply. He moved to his feet and started to get up, only for Zelda to groan in frustration.

“Sit back down so I can trounce you at this game,” Zelda finally caved, grabbing the pile of cards and straightening them out before quickly shuffling them. Link didn’t argue as he obeyed her.

-

It was nighttime on the sixth day after Link had been freed of Ghirahim. He and Zelda had spent the majority of the time planning the day that the demon lord returned. Link had mostly stayed in that room in the inn that Tomai had ran, enjoying every small freedom he was given, knowing that after this week, he may not get to enjoy this freedom, this life, ever again.

Zelda, Link, and Efhari agreed that trying to perform the spell to break Ghirahim’s bond to Link would be far too dangerous to do while in Kakariko Village, and quickly made arrangements to migrate far out of the city to perform the spell.

They met three other Sheikah warriors in the village that escorted them out, dressed in thick leather armor and carrying broadswords. One motioned for the guards to raise the gate so that they could all pass. Two of them carried what appeared to be a small body wrapped in thick white cloth.

“Only one?” Zelda asked, sounding worried.

Efhari nodded. “I did my best to convince them. Our customs mean a lot to us. Be thankful that one family chose to sacrifice their son’s body to our cause.”

Zelda shook her head in frustration as she led the group out of the village. “Customs don’t mean much when your home could be destroyed,” she huffed after they trekked far enough out of earshot from the guards at the gate.

“It won’t come to that,” Link interjected, watching as Zelda stiffened at those words. She had put up a happier front when they were still at the inn, but now Link could see how worried she was, how much fear she was trying to hide behind a mask of frustration.

They walked far enough that the large stone crater that surrounded Kakariko Village was barely visible in the distance. The terrain was still barren and rocky, yet the occasional tree was visible looking south.

“This will work,” Zelda commented as she picked out a particularly flat area for them to stay. She dragged her foot across the ground, forming a large circle in the dirt.

“I need the body right here,” Zelda pointed to the edge of the circle. “Link, I need you in the center.” She watched as the two Sheikah warriors carefully placed the body right on the edge of the line. “No one else may enter the circle, under any circumstances. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Goddess Hylia,” said all three Sheikah warriors bowed as they stepped away from the circle.

Zelda sat right in front of the body with her legs crossed while Link sat in the approximate center of the circle, trying to quell his building nervousness… Trying to stamp out his increasing terror at the horrifying thought of being under Ghirahim’s control again. _Zelda won’t let that happen._ It was reassurance enough. It had to be. Link knew he would either gain his freedom tonight or lose his life. He still knew that those options were far better than being subject to Ghirahim’s whims again.

“Sicut sacram ergo paschalem reverentiam in nullo dicimus esse minuendam,” Zelda chanted as she hovered her hands over the body. The circle started to glow yellow.

Link kneeled down patiently, watching as Zelda performed the ritual. There was something very different about it, something not quite right. It didn’t look like the other times Zelda had performed magic at all. He supposed that was supposed to happen. Whatever she was doing had to be completely different than the magic she had done before.

After a moment of the circle dying down in its glow, Zelda looked up and directly at Link. There was something deep and powerful in her eyes for a moment, something he had never seen before.

“We must wait,” Zelda said, her voice slightly strained as he hands remained in their position over the body and the circle continued to glow. “Until he comes back. Link, you will know before any of us do. Then we must act quickly.”

Link took a breath and nodded. They waited for what felt like hours, the tension palpable. The area around them was silent except for the occasional bird that flew by. The three Sheikah warriors stood outside the circle, spreading out and surrounding them, while Efhari waited father away in the background.

Link dreaded the feeling of Ghirahim returning to him, but he knew he had to be aware of it now. He took a shuddering breath, closed his eyes, and looked inward, seeing if there was something he could grasp that would bring the demon lord forth.

After a moment of feeling nothing, the image of him fighting hundreds of monsters while Ghirahim performed the ritual to sacrifice Zelda to Demise appeared out of nowhere in front of his eyes. He saw the blur of slashes, the feeling of monster blood splattering, leaving dead bodies in his wake. The feeling of immense power rushed through him as his blood raced with adrenaline. And then he could feel it, like a third limb had grown out of him, thinking, feeling, and reacting with him.

_Feel better?_

The urge to kill was stronger than ever. Ghirahim had gone to a different dimension, more powerful than ever before, feeding off their bond, and conquered. Perhaps at one point, Ghirahim was weak and his powers were limited, but just like Demise had let him lose and immortal to wreak havoc on the Surface, Ghirahim had let lose all his rage to the inhabitants of the Dark World. Link suddenly felt this horrible itching sensation, like he was covered in monster blood.

There was the familiar sensation of a sword in his left hand, yet everything moved like he was in a dream. He felt almost entirely detached from his body as he stood up, the circle glowing stronger now, but he easily stepped out of it.

The Sheikah warriors tried to stop him. They all drew their swords, but Link felt immortal, god-like. He swung his sword with no effort, blocking their attacks. They moved so slowly compared to him. He killed the first without effort, cleaving the Sheikah in half. He crouched down to avoid a swing from the second and cut off his legs.

Finally Link watched as the last Sheikah tried to keep out of the circle, unable to charge directly to get the drop on him. Link merely let out a chuckle, before stepping back in, quickly stabbing the Sheikah right in the chest before the he could even swing his sword.

With that, Link turned around to face Zelda. He stood still in the circle almost mockingly, knowing that whatever magic she was attempting wouldn’t work. Zelda remained there, chanting loudly, stubbornly, even while the others had died around her.

“Cute,” Link said, as he stepped forwards, raising his sword to strike her.

_No! Don’t kill her!_

Link could only describe the feeling as if ripping off an entire layer of skin from his body. His dream-like trance broken, but his body frozen as he fought for control. He looked over and saw Ghirahim there, looking wilder and angrier than ever. What surprised him more was the faded red rope that connected from his heart to Ghirahim’s core. The rope was barely visible, but slowly coming apart, like taking a dull knife to it, as each piece of magical twine started to break.

“It’s not enough to break our bond, Hylia,” Ghirahim spat. “You had your time. And now I have mine.”

Ghirahim raised his fist in the air as the rope started to come back together, strands breaking and reforming. Zelda merely glared at Ghirahim but kept chanting, not willing to concede against him.

Link tried to fight against his frozen state, desperation fueling him. Ghirahim was right. It wouldn’t be enough. He needed to die to end this. He tried to twist the black blade in his hands towards himself, but Ghirahim sensed this, and his control held tight, and the sword faded from his hands.

He heard the whistling sound of a dagger coming towards him, but Ghirahim was quick to block its path, the dagger uselessly fallen to the ground. Link turned his head to watch as the demon lord grab Efhari’s wrist and twist it until the bone popped out of the skin. He heard her scream before she was thrown to the ground.

“I’ll do it myself then,” Ghirahim walked back into the circle, and their rope connection appeared once more, fraying and reforming. The demon lord appeared completely unbothered as his own sword appeared in his hand, slowly walking towards Zelda, murderous intent in his eyes.

“Stop!” Link shouted, he couldn’t move forwards, so instead he fell to the ground in desperation. “Zelda run!”

Zelda didn’t listen, still stubbornly chanting out the spell, desperate to break the bond between them. It wasn’t enough. Ghirahim raised his blade above her. Link tried to grab some sort of purchase, something to stop him, and felt the dagger in his hands.

_“Our connection weakened when Demise was at his last breath…”_

Link felt like he was moving through sand, but put all his weight, all his might into driving the dagger straight into his chest. The agony of it exploded through him, as blood drenched his hand. But there was another snapping sound, as the rope dissolved into nothing, and instead of Ghirahim holding him in place, it was the sudden pain and emptying of his chest that weighed down on him.

Within seconds, Ghirahim had teleported away, and Zelda finally let out a scream, unharmed, but horrified to watch her best friend stab himself in the chest. She rushed over, just as Link was gasping for breath, his vision fading entirely into black.

-

-

-

When Link opened his eyes once more, everything felt stiff and sore, but it felt like his breath returned to him all at once.

“Am I dead?” he croaked, just as he saw Zelda tearfully looking down at him. Her hands glowed blue in that normal, comforting way that her magic would feel. Just like when she healed Fledge the night he attacked him.

“No, Link,” Zelda said, her voice strained and choking, but still hopeful. “You are very much alive.” More tears streamed down her cheeks.

Link looked to his side and saw Efhari clutching her wrist, the bone no longer popping out, but she still clutched her injured hand that was held at an abnormal angle. She must have healed it, but it still healed at the wrong angle.

“What happened to Ghirahim?” she asked, wincing in pain as she walked towards them.

Zelda grimaced at the question. “He’s still alive. We need to stop him before he finds someone else to bind himself to. I know how.” She looked up, determination in her eyes.

“We need to get to Skyloft as soon as possible.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. Unlike the other chapters, I didn't have this chapter written at all before posting the last one. I wanted to post this a lot earlier, but the work that I do suddenly doubled and so I've had a lot less time to write unfortunately. I'm hoping I can have the next chapter ready by next month at the latest. I really _really_ want to have this fanfic completely finished by November.


	16. A Prophecy Fulfilled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween everyone! I'm suddenly glad I've gotten to this point in this story that feels fitting for a Halloween style chapter. What kind of chapter is that in a story so dark and horrible?
> 
> A Ghirahim POV of course! That means warnings for rape and torture. If you have gotten this far in the story this may be no big deal to you by now, but I wanted to warn anyone who might've been expecting this chapter to have the set up for a happy ending. (Not quite... This may be 18 chapters total. Not sure. We are very very close to the end though.) Enjoy!

Ghirahim raced across the lands of the Surface, teleporting only as much as his magic would allow, enough that he wouldn’t become entirely drained. After bonding with Link, he had hoped that he wouldn’t have to worry about using up his reserves for a very long time. As soon as he had bonded with Link, he had gotten what he wanted. He was god-like, immortal, all powerful, and then all of that changed when _his goddess-damned creator ruined everything_.

_We were supposed to be connected. We were supposed to be unstoppable. We were meant to be together._

He stopped to catch his breath, teleporting to a hiding spot in the woods, away from human eyes. He kneeled down at the ground grabbing fistfuls of dirt before letting out a scream.

“ _Damn you!_ ” he shouted. “ _Curse you all! Curse you Hylia! Curse you Link!_ ”

The last curse came out choked. He wanted Link so desperately. He wanted their bond back. Even now, as the sudden yet familiar endless hunger for blood creeped up on him, every part of him still longed to be connected to Link.

Link was stronger than any other master he had had before. He fought so beautifully. He was so utterly perfect. He had made everyone else look disgustingly weak in comparison. Even Demise, as powerful as he was, acted crazy, made foolish mistakes, became too proud, and entirely underestimated Link.

Ghirahim had gotten so far with him. Link had fought harder than any of his other human masters before him. When Ghirahim had gotten the urge, he’d always take over the other’s will. It always happened so smoothly. One minute the master of his sword would be boring, the next, Ghirahim would exert his own will over their body, forcing his entire control over them, making them dance, and kill, and show everyone just how powerful he truly was.

Link, however, didn’t fall under Ghirahim’s control. He had called them ‘hallucinations.’ He wanted to laugh at how his own intentions became misinterpreted. He went along with it, saying it was out of his control as well. The thought of Link fighting him was thrilling, and eventually, Link would’ve given in. He almost did. He was _so damn close_.

Ghirahim thought their sword fights were the most exciting experiences of his existence, but the constant battle over Link’s will was even more exhilarating. Link was like a wild horse in his personal stable. He had slowly and carefully broken the animal down to his liking. His training was succeeding. It was both rewarding and extremely difficult, beyond tiring and frustrating. However, Ghirahim knew that in the end, when he had control over Link’s will, it would be entirely worth it.

He had left for the Dark Realm, in the hopes that Link wouldn’t kill himself and end all of his hard work like he had tried to do at the lake. He couldn’t risk it. _Link couldn’t die now_ , not when they had gotten so very far. His master just needed a break, and so had Ghirahim after all the limitations he himself had been forced to follow. He had thought nothing of it, giving the boy one last piece of freedom before taking complete control.

And then _that bitch_ had broken him free.

He shouldn’t have been surprised. Hylia had created him, albeit accidentally. He should’ve suspected that she of all people would be capable of breaking their bond. Except _he knew_ it wouldn’t have worked, and if it wasn’t for Link’s weak, horrible desire to sacrifice himself. He knew he shouldn’t have taken so long to stamp out those feelings out. If he did, then their bond wouldn’t have broken.

_They’re all weak. All of them. Filthy slugs crawling in the dirt, waiting for you to conquer them. Link was the only one who was different._

Ghirahim had thought he let out his excess rage in the Dark World. He killed so many of his brethren, and it all felt so good to just let loose after struggling against Link’s will. He didn’t know why he believed he could just come back and things would all work out. Now he just felt more and more rage, the constant ache in his core to be back with Link as his sword, the constant hunger for blood.

He _desperately_ needed blood.

Ghirahim teleported, traveling farther towards the wooded area, careful not to waste his entire magic reserves all at once, careful not to tread too far into the Lost Woods where it would take more magic to break out. He had to carefully, painstakingly pick and choose what was worth using magic over again. He no longer had the endless reserves he had when bound to another life force.

Ghirahim teleported close to a nearby pond in a grove of trees, spotting two travelers relaxing in the sun and eating their lunch. He quickly hid himself in the deeper woods so he could get a closer look at his next victims. He knew without a second glance that he could kill them in seconds, but he didn’t live this long without being cautious. Like a predator eyeing up his next meal, he stared at the two travelers to gauge the level of danger.

One was an older woman, greying through her blonde hair and red eyes to match her Sheikah heritage, dressed in a basic cloak. The boy with her was just a teenager, with similar facial features as the older woman, yet he couldn’t be any older than Link was with bright naïve red eyes. A mother and her son, just traveling through, completely unaware of the danger they were in. The teen carried a sword on his hip, looking around, somewhat wary of anything that might pop out. As if the teen stood any chance against him…

_How cute_ , Ghirahim thought. He was ready to conquer, to taste their blood, to watch the life drain from both their eyes, and in turn, he would grow stronger.

In one fell swoop, he used his magic to bind the teen by the wrists and ankles, immediately sending him crashing to the ground before pouncing on the woman like a rabid animal. He sliced her throat before she could open her mouth to cast a spell.

Ghirahim was on her body in seconds, restricting her hands with his, driving his tongue straight through the hole in her throat to satisfy his never-ending hunger. Blood... He rarely ever feasted on Sheikah blood throughout his lifetime, and that had been a mistake on his part. The magic imbued in her was powerful. She had been a formidable mage, but he had gotten the best of her, and as he drank every last drop that leaked from her throat, he could feel his strength returning.

He knew this would only be temporary, but still he felt satisfied as he watched her die, her son’s screams and crying and begging to spare her only egged him on further. He grinned, mouth dripping with leftover blood, as he watched the last of the light fade from her eyes. He felt so powerful as he gripped her lifeless body, pressing down on her chest to gather the last of her lifeforce. His endless hunger would be temporarily satisfied, and he could at least feel accomplished in this after having to deal with his most catastrophic failure so far.

_I want Link. I need Link._

And yet it was still not enough compared to the power he felt as Link’s master. He should just go back and fight. He should try and get Link to accept him again. He wanted to. He was so very tempted to do so. Yet he knew this power wouldn’t last. He knew he wouldn’t be able to convince Link to take him as his master. He was only able to gain such a status through pure luck and circumstances before. He couldn’t risk it again when Link was more than capable of killing him in this form.

_I want him. I need him. I want him. I need him. I WANT LINK. I NEED LINK._

Ghirahim turned to the blonde haired Sheikah boy who had been left entangled in his web. The teen’s cries had faded as he stared at the lifeless body of his mother. Ghirahim walked over to him, towering over the boy as he shriveled up in fear. Ghirahim kneeled down, sitting on top of the teen and pushed his bound arms upwards.

“No! Stop! Please!”

Ghirahim cringed at those words, realizing that the boy’s voice sounded just a bit too high compared to Link. It was clear and concise with a Sheikan accent, not as harsh or abrasive as Link’s voice, which had cracked and gave out from lack of use. Normally he wasn’t quite picky over these things. Normally he enjoyed it when anyone begged and screamed. But the contrast between this teen and Link was ruining his fantasy. He pushed the boy’s chin up to force his mouth closed.

“Keep talking and I’ll cut your tongue out,” Ghirahim threatened, casting a dagger that hovered by his shoulder for good measure. The boy grew quiet immediately, red eyes widening in horror as he spotted the floating weapon.

Ghirahim proceeded to press down on the teen’s throat with one hand, feeling, exploring his chest and sides with the other. The boy, like most Sheikah, didn’t put on a lot of muscle. He was more toned, thinner, wiry. There were similarities to Link’s body, especially when Link had first tried to fight him. This teen was bonier though, while the first time he met Link, the great chosen hero still had a small layer of fat on his bones from his relaxed life in Skyloft.

Ghirahim couldn’t decide if he liked Link’s body at their first meeting or closer to now, a year after pushing his body to its greatest limits, forming thick muscle that hid too easily underneath his clothes. He knew he certainly enjoyed a Link that was too weak to fight back, but the thrill of realizing what the chosen hero had become, how deadly and powerful he could really be, and the possibility that they could share that power together was a breathtaking thought.

Ghirahim broke out of his fantasy and released the boy’s throat, realizing he strangled the teen even as he reminisced about Link, until realizing that the Sheikan boy could die from asphyxiation if he didn’t let up. He was pretty certain the teen had passed out. Fine by him. The boy was only a weak imitation in comparison. It was better this way than to have him talk again or open his eyes and ruin his fantasy once more.

Ghirahim moved down to the boy’s legs, cutting through the layers of fabric to reveal pale skin. He ripped the boy’s shirt up and the pants down, revealing toned thighs before slicing right into the meat of his skin. The teen let out a whimper in pain, but still hadn’t opened his eyes. Ghirahim watched the blood quickly bead out extending his tongue out for a taste.

He could taste the distinct flavor of Sheikan magic, so similar to how the boy’s mother tasted like. In many ways, it whetted his appetite for magic, and yet it just wasn’t enough.

Ghirahim hadn’t lied when he admitted that Link’s blood tasted finer than anything he had experienced before. There was something so pure, yet so incredibly powerful to it. Link’s blood wasn’t as magical as a Sheikah’s, yet it made his core thump like a pounding drum at first taste.

Before Ghirahim had met Link, he would’ve relished at the idea of consuming Sheikan blood. Long before Demise had become his master, it was a delectable treat. Now it tasted crude and harsh, the magic in their blood doing its job to fill his own reserves, but it wasn’t nearly as pleasurable as drinking every bit of energy from the chosen hero, the true master of his blade.

The differences weren’t enough to get Ghirahim to stop. He desperately hoped he could find something in the boy that would satisfy his need for Link. As such, he proceeded to grip the boy’s cock, giving it a few swift jerks to harden it, before shoving his fingers into the boy’s hole dry.

The teen jerked awake, letting out another cry as his eyes opened in shock. Ghirahim merely grunted in frustration. This fantasy wasn’t working the way he wanted it too, but he wasn’t going to give up. He pulled his fingers out before turning the teen over, pressing his face into the dirt before pulling off his own bodysuit to reveal his own cock.

Ghirahim was a sword spirit, not a human being. He could technically have sex with the equipment given to him, but the pleasure that other human beings felt from sex, or even the act of orgasming was something he had never experienced and probably never will.

No, he found a different type of enjoyment from sex. The act of humiliation, the pure degradation, left him feeling wonderfully tingly inside. That is what motivated him to shove himself into the Sheikan boy, wishing he had gotten to experience this with Link the first time they met. Link had been just as pliant, yet equally terrified and humiliated, but underneath it all, Ghirahim looked back and realized how wonderful it could be to experience the thrill of Link plotting, fighting back, challenging him in a way that none of his many other victims had before.

He wished for it now. He wanted the Sheikan boy to fight back. To scream, claw, and beg… Maybe even reveal a hidden weapon from underneath his clothes to try and attack him. He would kill the boy instantly if that happened, yet still he craved the challenge more than anything else.

Ghirahim could feel the sting of his own disappointment when he realized that the boy wouldn’t fight back. Like so many of his other pathetic experiments in torture and humilation, the boy simply endured the abuse limply, like a broken doll, eventually coming unwillingly onto the grass with only a heavy breath to indicate it.

Ghirahim remained inside him, wondering if that attack would ever come. He was prepared for it this time. If the Sheikan boy decided to destroy him, he could easily overpower whatever would be thrown his way. Even a direct hit to his core would hurt terribly and weaken him, but it wouldn’t kill him.

Instead the boy tried to play dead, waiting, expecting for Ghirahim to grow bored enough for them to separate. The thought enraged Ghirahim, realizing that, once more, he couldn’t get what he wanted, and all of the agony, rage, and misery that he felt when Link stabbed himself and broke their bond came back in full force.

Ghirahim let out another wild scream of rage as he summoned several daggers and drove them straight into the boy’s back. With a shocked gasping noise, the boy died instantly, but Ghirahim wasn’t done. He finally pulled himself out of the corpse, lifting his hand to lift at least 6 daggers embedded in the boy’s flesh before stabbing the Sheikan boy again.

He repeated the upward and downward motion with his daggers, over and over again, blood splattering everywhere, soaking his skin and the ground. He drove those knives into the boy’s body until it became a mutilated and bloody mess, and his voice grew hoarse from screaming.

It wasn’t enough. It never would be. The hunger for blood was a constant one, so familiar that he was more than used to it. He had suffered from his constant craving for blood for centuries, but what he was experiencing now was so much worse.

He had been perfectly honest with Link when he said that he believed the only way to break their bond was death. His masters dying, either in battle or by suicide had always been the norm. He should’ve known that his cruel mother, an otherwise thoughtless, power hungry hag, would find a way to break their bond without killing Link. Ghirahim had truly believed that he had found the loophole. A master with endless skill with his sword, the weak point to truly prevent Hylia from interfering, the ultimate vessel to bring forth his wrath.

_I want Link. I need Link. I want Link. I need Link._

Ghirahim felt this new hunger, this new loss in his core being like no other. He had never had any care for the masters before him, even leaving Demise, while painful and left him horribly weak, couldn’t compare to the loss that he felt now. He needed Link. Why! Why did the chosen hero fight him so much? Why did his perfect master have to be so damned stubborn?

_I want him. I need him. I want him. I need him. I WANT LINK. I NEED LINK._

He dragged his body over to the pond that the two Sheikah were gathering water from, staring at the reflection of himself in the water. He would usually look at his own reflection with pride, his image carefully cultivated after years and years of gaining power and slowly changing to fit the image of the perfect being, the perfect demon lord.

He didn’t want it anymore. His image looked nothing but like a hollow façade, a mirage to fool himself into believing he was worth far more than how the rest of the world treated him. Back then, he believed that his strength, his magic, his power would grant him an image that would make both man and monster bow in fear alike after he achieved his dreams. How foolish he had been to chase such a childish notion.

_I want Link. I need Link. I want Link. I need Link. I WANT LINK. I NEED LINK._

Ghirahim pulled out the sphere of magic that Hylia had granted him before he left for the Dark Realm. Goddesses, he wanted to consume all that magic as soon as he got his hands on it, but he waited, knowing that Link wouldn’t live forever. Someday he would be separated from the hero and left weak and wanting. He didn’t realize how soon he would be separated from his true master, his power and strength stripped away from him so easily in seconds.

_I WANT LINK. I NEED LINK. I WANT LINK. I NEED LINK._

The little ball of magic that Hylia had granted him as payment was more than he could ever gather by himself. It would take years of slaughtering innocents or being extra good for Demise to merit this level of reward, or even be able to channel the moment when Link was at his weakest to fight against him to gain this level of power again. He knew that Hylia, the witch who created him, would give him enough power to save himself when he needed to. He knew that he would need this little ball packed full of magic at his worst. He knew after centuries of barely surviving that this magic would come in handy.

_…But it couldn’t give him Link._

Still he prayed, demanded, screamed as he clutched the ball of magic in one hand, and sent his hand through the water with the other, splashing and shattering the image of himself. _He couldn’t live like this._ He couldn’t live with both the constant craving of blood and Link like he needed air, especially when he knew that he would never ever get the latter.

Otherwise, he felt strong. His magical reserves without a master were filled to the brim, and so he connected even deeper with the ball of magic his creator had granted him, pouring into it his entire being, demanding the one thing that was otherwise impossible for him to gain. He just _needed_ Link, more than anything else in the world. _He just needed Link._

The water in front of him started to calm after the ripples from his disturbance had ceased. He channeled the ball of magic. He suddenly realized that it would only be fitting that he would be granted what he wanted by his creator’s power. Only her magic would connect with him so smoothly, so fluidly, so powerfully… In that moment, his image of himself began to change…

Whenever he formed disguises of other people, he could only form black and white versions, the other colors he could never get quite right. His own image changed now, from tall, pale, covered in a white body suit, to plain white pants, to black tunic and classic pointed cap, something so familiar, yet he longed so desperately for.

His skeleton shifted as well, getting shorter, stockier. He felt less powerful in physical strength, but quicker, and more confident in his flexibility and familiarity with his own sword.

His face changed, both ears pointing upwards, his white hair brushing past his face and resting comfortably on the right side, his eyes expanded, yet remained the same familiar red color, his jaw shifted, becoming softer.

The ripples settled and the only thing that stared back at him was exactly what he wanted. Link… He wanted Link all this time, but perhaps he didn’t need Link as a master as much as he needed to become Link. A darker version of Link… something to balance out the universe when Demise had been destroyed… Perhaps that had been his destiny all this time.

Ghirahim had settled into his new form like enjoying the most comfortable bed. His new body felt even more exhilarating than before. Before he felt the simple strength from the muscles and great stature from his old form, but now he had strength, strategy, power, and skill.

He stood up and summoned his sword, the pitch-black version of the Master Sword, gave it a few swings, suddenly enjoying the power, newness, and freedom granted from this new body. The feeling was familiar, like when Link had handled his own blade with a natural grace and power, channeling magical energy from his sword with ease. He tried to let loose his own magic with his sword, but nothing appeared.

That was a bit of a disappointment, but not a complete loss. He knew what to appreciate with this new form. His own core, which would’ve otherwise been a great red target exposed on his body had dispersed, becoming murky and vaguer. He wouldn’t be so easily defeated like before. His weakness was no longer clear and concisely placed for enemies to strike him down.

Ghirahim gave a small chuckle, holding the tiny ball of magic that only gave a faint bit of light now. After all of that, he still hadn’t used up all of the magic given to him by Hylia. He had used a lot of his own to become what he was now, suddenly far more satisfied with the results. He had sacrificed up his own powers of teleportation and protection to gain his current form, but that was a small price compared to how confident he felt in himself now.

The last of Hylia’s magic would turn into something he could use, something as suitable as before, something he could cast at any time and remain just as powerful as he always was. Under gentle guidance, the tiny little ball of magic split in three. One piece turned green, formed to make him teleport himself, another turned blue as it was structured to form a barrier around him to protect him from both physical and magical attacks.

He didn’t even think to put much thought into these last three pieces of magic. Perhaps they were inspired by the Goddesses themselves when they formed into their own. Ghirahim only watched amusedly as they rotated, gathering their own color and form for him to use.

The last piece of magic grew redder, hotter, glowing with power that Ghirahim had never experienced before. He laughed loudly as he watched it, pushed it, molded it the way he desired, yet not having complete control over the final product. The tiny ball of magic glowed bright red, and he touched it with pure curiosity.

The area around him glowed red, forming a sphere of flames that expanded outwards, setting the grass, trees, and bodies lying on the ground on fire. Ghirahim suddenly felt the rush of adrenaline in his newly acquired veins, grinned widely as he realized all that had come into place.

He knew his destiny now. He had simply watched, amused, whenever the Sheikah had fearfully repeated over and over again that their own village would burn down when Link had appeared; yet he had never known his own purpose in that destiny. He knew the truth now. He knew what he was meant to do.

The extinction of the Sheikah would come at his own hand. After all, they were nothing more than bags of meat with magic infused in them, attracting monsters at will. He could probably gather even more magic this way, making himself even more resistant to death, gaining more energy to put into the three balls of magic he could use to teleport, create barriers, and create fire. The magic he had used, the same magic that shaped him this way, naturally formed magic that was representative of the goddesses. If that wasn’t his destiny, Ghirahim couldn’t imagine what was in his otherwise long, aimless existance so far.

All their deaths would eventually go to a greater cause. The balance between chosen hero and darkness. The balance between light and dark.

Now fully changed into his new form, Dark Link walked confidently towards Kakariko Village with the glowing ball of fire ready in his hand.

-

-

-

Sneaking into Kakariko Village was far too easy. Dark Link had traveled on foot, saving and building up the magic that he had. His magic felt different now, not always easily attained by the blood of the innocent. The sacrifice needed to generate magic could now be more complex, like the dead trees and grass that he left in his wake, or the group of monsters he helped summon and sent off to distract the guards at the village gates.

Yet it turned out that he didn’t even need the distraction. He felt his own form bend effortlessly with the shadows at night. He felt far more fluid, far more graceful than he had ever felt in his existence. When he entered the gates, he was entirely invisible to the world, even the Sheikah, famous for seeing far greater secrets than most, couldn’t spot him in the gaps untouched by the moon’s rays.

Dark Link traveled to the center of the village, farthest away from the surrounding lake and finding an abandoned alleyway where the villagers couldn’t spot him. He pulled out the glowing red orb, shining brightly and illuminating up the alleyway. Knowing that he would be spotted at any moment with this new light source, he channeled every single bit of magic energy he had into one single blast.

The bright red orb formed a small oval-shaped sphere of fire around Dark Link, before quickly expanding outwards, yet growing brighter and brighter. The houses between him exploded in flames, rock and wood collapsing into ash immediately, as the sphere of fire began to slowly fade as it expanded outwards, engulfing houses in flames a few yards away.

Dark Link smiled as he heard the first screams of agony, the Sheikah unknowingly caught in the first powerful attack, before quickly burning to a crisp. He let out a burst of laughter, watching the houses burn around him as the remaining survivors ran for their life.

Dark Link calmly walked over to a different section of Kakariko Village, one that wasn’t as affected by the initial flames or guided to burn further by the nearby winds. Six warriors approached him in the process, but he felt no fear when he looked at their swords, spears, and daggers.

He called forth the twisted, dark version of the Master sword, the blade feeling far more comfortable and familiar in this body. He used to hate using the blade that had once kept him trapped in chains, destined to be unsatisfied in servitude and endlessly craving blood without respite. He used to use scimitars and daggers; his own form of rebellion by using different amalgamations of the same sword that kept him bound.

He could see now that those amalgamations were far lesser compared to the real deal. Dark Link could appreciate the weight and length of his true sword much more easily. He could see his own blade as an extension of himself, rather than a curse that bound him to this existence.

He blocked a dagger thrown his way easily with a quick swing. Two charged at him with spears. He concentrated on the blue orb in his possession, and a barrier of blue appeared between them, stopping their spears in mid-stab, before he stepped forwards, swinging his sword and cutting them both at the neck, leaving their shocked faces separated from their bodies.

Dark Link smiled as the other four stepped back, realizing their mistake of approaching him. One tried to cast a blasting spell, something simple that would’ve just stunned him and knocked him backwards, but he easily dodged it, not that he needed to. He dashed forwards, slicing through the torso of the Sheikan warrior that tried to cast the spell, and splitting another nearby in half before he could raise his sword to defend himself.

One of the Sheikah tried another spell, one more malicious in nature, and more difficult to dodge. Bright electricity flowed from the Sheikah’s fingers, but Dark Link was quick to bring forth the blue barrier again, blocking the spell from touching him. Dark Link smiled as the two Sheikah's faces grew full of terror before they tried to make a run from him.

Dark Link concentrated his power into the red orb once more, bringing forth a wall of fire that quickly reached the two Sheikah before they could escape, burning them with flames so hot that they became charred corpses almost instantly. The flames were expansive and powerful enough to light the nearby houses aflame.

The fire around him grew larger and larger, traveling easily from home to home, in the village where houses were positioned so closely that the fire spread easily, lighting up building after building, spreading out to the wooden sections of the large wall that kept the burning wood and fire contained within the city like one large bonfire.

There were people that tried to haul large pales of water from the lake surrounding the village. Dark Link was quick to meet them at the gates as they tried to splash water on the remaining houses. He rushed forwards, cutting each and every one of them down with ease.

There was a woman with them, someone he had recognized from his other life. She teleported with a loud cracking noise before he could cut directly through her. He knew from how quickly she cast that she hadn’t gone far, and instinct and experience drove him to turn around and bat away the dagger she sent his way.

Efhari… That was the name of the leader of the Sheikah… He had broken her wrist in his past life. She had tried to interfere when he was fighting to maintain a connection with Link. She drew her own sword in a rage, but Dark Link only smiled as he easily blocked each and every one of her attacks before quickly finding an opening and stabbing her clean through her stomach.

Dark Link pulled his sword out of her just as quickly as he stabbed her, finding the light fading from her eyes just as pleasurable as the others. She quickly fell, face shocked, collapsing to the ground in a pool of blood.

Once Dark Link was certain that no other Sheikah would be foolish enough to fight him, or even more foolish to attempt to save their town, he walked through the main streets, occasionally reigniting fires when some of flames began to fade. Warriors, men, women, and children tried to run past him, and he swiftly stopped them before they could escape, cutting them to pieces with his sword.

He had heard the sounds of screams pass by him many times, enjoying the echoes that made his blood and body sing with joy. He was doing it. He was fulfilling destiny. Everything felt so right. He looked among ever-burning pile of rubble around him, reveling in the hot fire that licked his skin.

He looked up and saw a large red crimson bird fly across the smoky sky. It looked strangely familiar. He had seen it before a few times, but never significantly enough to identify the source…

Dark Link heard the sound of a child crying. It was another sound that was so familiar that he was immediately drawn to it, walking through roads full of ash and burning rubble until he came upon the sight of a small Sheikan girl. She had to be close to 8 or 9. She was sobbing over the burnt, dead body of a woman.

She quickly snapped her head around in fear, standing up in shock. Her limbs shook with fear.

“Link?” she asked in confusion.

Memories came flooding back to him, a time of servitude, a time when Dark Link’s decisions were not his own. A time when he was not the master of his own fate… Meda… That was the girl’s name. She had somehow become someone special to his former master’s life. However, Dark Link could only see suffering and hardship in the view times he had seen her. The greatest mercy would be killing her. He didn’t know why he was stopped back then. He knew that he should right this wrong now.

“Hello Meda,” Dark Link lied. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“Are you…” Meda choked out, tears dripping down her cheeks. “Are you here to save me again?”

“Yes,” Dark Link replied with a pause, pointing his sword forwards towards her neck. She froze in shock. “Yes, I will save you.” Dark Link positioned his sword back for the swing, preparing for a clean slice to her neck, and in a flash, he swung forwards.

His sword hit cold steel with a loud _CLANG!_

“ _Run Meda_ ,” the lighter being ordered loudly as he blocked Dark Link’s sword with a far inferior replacement. He was dressed in the familiar green tunic and white pants. His skin reddened by the flames surrounding them.

Meda had suddenly awoken from the shock from before, quickly running away as the chosen hero held his dulled sword, pointing forwards, steeled blue eyes and dirty blonde hair, so very familiar and ready to attack.

Dark Link mirrored him, pointing his superior blade upwards with a grin. He had been waiting… anticipating… craving… longing for this fight, since the very moment of the creation of his new form.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, this chapter was one of the reasons why I decided to go along and write this and post this story in the first place. I hadn't seen anyone else try to hint at this interesting (yet otherwise totally unfounded) theory that Ghirahim = Dark Link in the future. 
> 
> However, I am more than happy to start the trend on this little theory of mine. If anyone else has an idea for a fic OR found a fic that hints at/implies/shows a Ghirahim = Dark Link in the future trend, please recommend it to me! I would love to read it!


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